


Armistice

by scifishipper



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/M, Forgiveness, Gen, Romance, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:46:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifishipper/pseuds/scifishipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When rebel cylons show up at Armistice Station, Lee finds himself drafted into an unusual role.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Armistice

**PROLOGUE**

_Armistice Station_

Colonel Mark Wakefield carries his briefcase towards a rectangular table in the center of an elongated room, his footfalls echoing against the faux wood grain of the walls. The air is dry and stale, recycled for forty years as Armistice Station sits empty, save this one annual vigil when the Colonial Fleet waits for the cylons to appear for negotiations. In forty years, no one has appeared.

With a snap-snap of the locks, Wakefield opens the case and pulls out his personal items, a photograph of his son and wife, smiling happily for the camera, and a copy of the Fleet’s engagement policies with a detailed drawing of centurion. He scans the pages uselessly, having memorized them fifteen years prior when he received the assignment from his predecessor, Colonel Forshem.

With the table ready, he leans forward and says a small prayer, another few words he’s been repeating for a decade and a half. _The Lords protect my family._ Satisfied that he is ready, Wakefield sits back in the chair, adjusting his sash of ribbons and awards to settle in for the twelve hour wait. After an hour, his anxiety begins to fade and he drifts off, mind filled with the inane details of his life on Picon, his son’s birthday in a few days, his wife’s new job offer, the fact that his car won’t frakking start again.

He’s startled out of his dreamy state by the clanging of the cylon side’s mechanized double doors sliding open. He nearly gasps, eyes wide and terrified as he hears the heavy clang of metal footsteps and sees the silver forms of what must be centurions come into the room, their bright red eye scanning him. _Oh my gods,_ his mind exclaims. His fingers shake as he sits forward in his chair, mouth open in shock. _They’ve come!_

His eyes are fixed on the elongated and terrifying forms of the silver soldiers, watching as they change their gun-shaped hands into sharp-tipped elongated fingers. It’s the stuff of nightmares and he shivers, feeling his bowels loosen with fear. _How can they be so much_ more _terrifying?_

The two centurions take up a post on either side of the doors and then more footsteps echoing in the outside corridor, sounding distinctly human, and Wakefield’s brow knits. When the figure of a tall blond-haired woman appears in the opening, he is frozen, unanswered questions flooding his mind. _A human? Why is she here? What do I do? What’s happening?_ He wants to stand, to speak, to extend his hand as he has been trained to do, but he simply cannot move or breathe or make a sound. 

He watches her perfect walk, model-like, as she approaches, ignoring the chair at the other side of the table and instead coming close and perching on the edge of his desk as if they were intimate friends. Her leg brushes against his and she examines him with curiosity. _Is she human? She has to be. Oh, my gods._ He can’t understand, just gapes, feeling a terror he’s never known.

“Are you alive?” she asks and his mouth tries to answer, eventually managing to say, “Yes.”

She almost smiles then and moves closer, her face mere inches from his. Wakefield’s mind is spinning fast, his body still frozen as he tries to figure out what to do. She’s leaning over him, face calm and serene, and so incredibly beautiful that he can’t remember what he’s supposed to do, the lines he’s rehearsed for just such an encounter. He can barely comprehend what’s happening.

The woman leans forward. “Prove it,” and she kisses him with soft red lips and he kisses her back, all sensation and fear focused on the simple act of her tongue swiping through his open lips, the smell of her skin, so different from his wife’s. Every nerve is lit in his body as he trembles, limbs finally beginning to move again. 

Breaking the kiss, she stares at him, eyes wide and glistening. “My brothers and sisters are going to destroy your worlds. I can help you stop them.”

 

**PART ONE**

_Caprica City, Caprica_

“Well, if it isn’t Captain Leland J. Adama,” Kara shouts over the loud music and chattering customers at _Stingers_ , a rowdy bar a dozen blocks from the Academy. The patio is open and the sound of street noise adds to the din.

Lee turns and catches sight of her striding through the crowd, her short-cropped blond hair bouncing as she dodges drinks and elbows to get to him. Her face is lit with a wide grin and Lee raises his hand and offers a small salute. His face dissolves into a bright smile when she throws her arms around his neck.

“You lousy frakker,” she says, planting a sloppy kiss on his lips. “You beat me to Captain.” 

Lee laughs, pretending to polish his new pips with his knuckles. “Like you had a shot.” She’s a year behind him, but even he knows she’s so frakking talented as an instructor and pilot that she just might have done it.

“Everybody has a skill,” she jokes, and turns at the sound of her name, her arm lingering on Lee’s shoulder.

“Lee, Kara!” Zak calls out to them from the edge of the patio and shoves his way through the crowd with an ambrosia in hand. His hair has grown out a little since Lee saw him last, four weeks prior at the Academy’s Demeter Luncheon where they introduced the latest entrants into the piloting program. The day he met Kara Thrace and his world got turned upside down. Lee squeezes Kara’s waist as he remembers. 

With his usual flourish, Zak stumbles into them, showing as much grace on his feet as he does in the cockpit. Lee shakes his head, bemused. “So, it’s the new _Captain_ Adama,” Zak says. “And here I wasn’t even sure you’d make it through flight school–” Zak laughs and elbows his brother. “Oh, wait, you didn’t.” 

Lee releases Kara and grabs Zak around the neck, mock wrestling. “It’s the other way around, pipsqueak. Flight school wasn’t good enough for _me_.” 

Zak and Lee wriggle around the tight space, drawing grumbles from other patrons until they settle down and Zak holds out his ambrosia. “A peace offering.”

Lee takes the bottle and tips it to both of them. “I’d make a toast, but you’re both empty! Somebody needs to get ambrosias.” 

Kara swipes the bottle out of Lee’s grip. “Yeah, you’d better get in line at the bar. Crowded as hell.” She takes a long draw on the pale ale and raises her eyebrows, nudging her head towards the line of soldiers waving cubits at the overworked bartender. 

“I’ll go,” Zak offers. “You two stay here. And don’t go running off like last time.” He waggles a finger at the two of them and Lee has the dignity to blush, remembering how they’d rushed out the last time and ended up frakking in Kara’s car because they couldn’t wait the fifteen minute drive to her apartment. He’d never been so brazen before, but he couldn’t keep his hands off her.

“Then don’t take too long,” Kara shouts after him and then leans into Lee again, eyes sparkling. “How’s it feel to be breaking frat regs, Captain?” Her face is close and his arm snakes around her waist. He hasn’t seen her for a week and all he wants to do is get the hell out of there. 

“Minor offense that will be ignored if you behave yourself.” He pulls her against him and kisses her, thinking he’d give up his rank if anything ever came of it. He needs to have her.

Kara chuckles against his mouth. “And when have you ever known me to do that?” 

“Almost never,” he whispers, feeling himself harden against her hip, the rest of the bar noise disappearing under sensation and desire.

“Just the way I like it.” She pulls at his lip with her teeth and deepens the kiss for a long moment before pulling away to stare up at him. “That’s a down payment on your celebratory frak later, _Captain._ ” Kara’s lifts one eyebrow and takes another swig of ambrosia. “I’m going to be dry by the time he gets back,” she grumbles.

Lee plucks the ambrosia away from Kara and drains the bottle, breathing a satisfied sigh at the end. “Yup. Definitely dry.” 

Giggling, Kara pokes him in the ribs with her finger. “You are so going to pay for that.” She gives him a wicked smile.

Lee’s lips find Kara’s ear and he nips at the soft lobe with his teeth. “I hope so.” He feels her shiver and slides his lips along her cheek to reach her mouth again, alcohol still fresh on her tongue. He can’t stop kissing her, tasting every part of her mouth, hands roaming down her back, skimming her ass.

Zak’s arrival breaks them apart again and he offers more ambrosias. “All right a toast!” Zak raises his bottle with a grin. “To my big brother, the newest Captain of the Fleet, cylon historian extraordinaire, flight school dropout, apple of his father’s eye—” Zak continues to rattle off ridiculous titles until Lee interrupts him. 

“Okay, okay,” he laughs. “How about a toast to moving up in the world.” He clinks his bottle with Kara’s, desire still lingering in his eyes, and then with Zak’s. “Eat my dust, nugget.” Lee winks at his brother and squeezes Kara’s hand. They laugh together and raise their bottles to their lips.

As they drink, his eyes skim over the two of them; he’s not sure he’s ever been happier.

:: :: ::

_Delphi_

Lee follows Kara down a dimly lit hallway, glancing upward as Kara smacks a darkened light fixture with the tips of her fingers. “Frakking ghetto apartment,” she grumbles and the light flickers to life. Lee has his hand on her hip as she slides her key into the lock of the two-bedroom apartment she used to share with her mother, although not a trace of the woman seems to remain. 

Pushing the door open, Kara steps inside and hits another light, illuminating the stairwell and bounding down the bottom, tossing her jacket onto the end of the narrow banister. The paintings on the walls cause a bright background of color as Lee follows more slowly, watching her move and anticipating what is to come. It seemed to take forever for Zak to wander off with his classmates, finally saying his goodbyes so they could dash out of the bar and onto the train towards Delphi. It was only the other customers on the train that had kept their groping to a minimum.

“Whatcha waiting for, Captain?” Kara calls over her shoulder and he smiles, watching as she kicks off her shoes and heads towards the dining room. A shiver of anticipation lightens his steps.

Lee slides out of his jacket and lays it over a chair, keeping an eye on Kara who’s heading towards the bedroom, peeling off her shirt and letting it drop to the hallway floor. The cool night air streams through the open kitchen window as he follows, unbuckling his belt and pulling it out of the loops. Lee dashes forward when Kara gets tangled in the pants she’s trying to remove. She falls into him laughing, leaning back and exposing her neck for his mouth. 

Her skin is warm and voice throaty when she talks to him. “’Bout time you caught up. Thought I’d have to start without you.” 

“Mmmm,” He breathes into her hair and skims her breasts and abdomen with his palms. He gives her a little nudge towards the bedroom and finds the clasp of her bra with his fingers as she takes a step away.

They walk in tandem, casting off clothes between kisses until they are almost naked and falling back onto the bed. Lee’s fingers find the tuft of hair between her legs and touches her, watching her face as her eyes drift closed, arms spread out, breasts peaking in the coolness of the apartment. Lee slides over her, fingers working quickly, his mouth pulling at her nipples, tongue swirling around her navel, then lower as she spreads her legs, arching her back, letting herself go like she always does. He can’t get enough and buries his face, licking until she cries out, twisting her fingers into his hair and pulling him towards her. 

Kara reaches between them and tilts her hips, nudging against his erection and groaning as he slides inside. Her heels dig into his ass, fingers and breath urging him faster until Lee can barely hold on. His hands are all over her as he makes tiny sounds against her ear, her name, _oh gods_ , and again as he thrusts faster, skin burning between them until she cries out his name. He fraks her through another orgasm, sliding his arms around her shoulders to draw her into him for his final motions. He barks her name and his body shudders, breathing in pants, his heated skin slippery against her body. 

Lee rolls off her and she shifts against him, hand touching his shoulder as she flips onto her stomach with a sigh. Lee rises and opens the window, letting the breeze flow over their bodies, wicking away moisture. He settles back in, sliding a leg over her hips and planting kisses on her shoulder. 

She smiles against the pillow, her eyes already closed. “Congratulations, _Captain_ ,” she says, her voice scratchy with sleep. 

Lee smiles happily and trails a finger up along her cheek, pushing her sweat-soaked hair off her face. In that moment he feels unexpected words bubbling in his throat, a desire to tell her how he feels, but he stops himself, swallowing and pressing his face against hers instead. She shifts against him, fingers finding his and twining around them. 

They turn together and he pulls her against his chest, reveling in the moment and holding on tight until his body relaxes and he drifts off to sleep.

:: :: ::

_Caprica Base_

“Congratulations on your promotion, sir,” Lieutenant Felix Gaeta says, snapping to a salute as Lee walks into his research lab a few days later. 

Lee flips a salute in return and lets his face dissolve into a smile. “Thanks, Felix. How’s it going today?”

Rounding the edge of the white-topped table, Lee surveys the stacks of spiral notebooks, binders of all colors, and loose-leaf papers strewn across the surface. Two-thirds of the way down the table is a line of red tape separating the stacks into reviewed and un-reviewed portions. 

“I still can’t believe that the Fleet never had access to these files.” Felix shakes his head and picks up a green notebook with dog-eared edges. “I know that Graystone was obsessed with keeping records of everything, but this…this is a little obscene.” 

With a chuckle, Lee taps his fingers one of Graystone’s personal leather-bound notebooks. “I think the Ha’la’tha insisted on Graystone documenting every detail so they could keep track of his progress. They were making a lot of money when the cylons were in full production, but I don’t think they wanted anyone to know where it came from. Ha’la’tha money was supposed to stay on Tauron.” Lee shakes his head, remembering his shock at discovering the cache of files and notebooks in an unused storeroom at the Adama family compound on Tauron. It had gone undiscovered for decades.

Lee sighs, surveying the volume of materials. “It’s going to take many more months to get through the rest of these and sort them appropriately.”

“Do you think we’ll learn something new?” Felix drops the notebook back onto the pile and begins to sort through a stack of loose papers. “These are completely out of date order. Maybe I should start here.”

“Yeah, see what you can make of those – it seems like this last batch of documents are more poorly organized than the rest. Leslie will be in this afternoon and she can help you.” 

Felix nods and Lee flips open the leather journal to see the sloppy script of Daniel Graystone. It was taking ages just to decipher the man’s handwriting, let alone put together clues about how the cylons came to sentience. “I think we need to sort these by content after date. Break things down into three-month increments and we’ll try to trend the findings. The most critical pieces will be right before and after Atlas Arena. I’m not convinced that Graystone really believed the cylons weren’t sentient. I want to know what he knew and when he knew it.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll do a top level date sweep and sort into three month segments and then cross-reference general themes.”

“Sounds good, Felix. I’ve got a meeting with Colonel Barker. I’ll see you in an hour or so.”

Lee skirts around the chairs and computers in the lab, his mind whirling with a thousand facts that he’d learned in his previous few months of exploring the documents. The amount of data is overwhelming, but he is beginning to see a pattern of information that seems to point to a gap in Graystone’s understanding of the cylons. It makes no sense.

A few minutes later, he steps into the elevator hits the button for eight. The door chimes and he walks into his CO’s outer office before knocking lightly on the wooden door, his eyes drifting to the gold Colonial seal at its center. A voice offers him entry and Lee steps inside to see Colonel Madge Barker looking up at him, her face unusually grim and Lee’s stomach drops. He steps inside and draws himself to attention with a salute. 

“Close the door and have a seat, Captain.” 

Lee complies, swallowing as he sits across the wide highly-polished desk from the older woman, seeing her brow knit in concentration, an air of deep seriousness that contrasts with her usually easy-going manner. Colonel Barker taps her blue and gold Colonial pen on the desk and frowns deeply. “I have a special assignment for you, Captain.

“Yes, sir.” Lee’s palms prick with moisture as he watches the Colonel slide two sheets of paper across her desk. “Sign these papers, Captain. They provide you with the highest level of security clearance.”

Blinking in surprise, Lee touches the papers. “I thought I had clearance.” Lee has been working in a secure lab with the Graystone files for the last year and a half.

“Not at this level. Sign them and we can continue speaking. And you know the regs: if you repeat anything I am about to tell you, you will be court-martialed and possibly imprisoned or executed.” Her face is deadly serious and Lee blanches.

“Sir…” He shifts in the padded seat, feeling unprepared and downright terrified at what the Colonel is about to tell him. 

Lee reads through each paper and signs them, her pen feeling heavy and awkward in his fingers. He slides them back towards his CO with a tremor in his hand. Barker takes the paper and the pen and tucks them into a drawer, smoothing her jacket before moving to sit at a round wooden side table near a window overlooking Argos Park. She waves him over and Lee follows, sitting on the edge of a curved, low-back chair, awaiting his fate. Nothing about this bodes well.

With a heavy sigh, Barker clasps her hands in front of her and speaks, voice holding the slightest wobble. “The cylons have returned and they have a plan.”

:: :: ::

Lee rushes out of her office with his heart racing, fear and shock making his movements feel jerky and strange. _You’ll be shipping out in four days._ The words repeat over and over again as he hops out of the elevator and speeds down the corridors towards his lab to begin preparing for a mission that he can barely comprehend. Everything in his world is turning inside out and he is now supposed to do a year’s worth of work in four days. 

_Four days._

Oh, gods, he thinks, what about Kara? The idea of leaving her makes him want to turn on his heel and refuse to go. They have something and this is going to frak it all up. And he can’t even tell her why. _Frak._ Lee presses his palm to his forehead, taking deep breaths as he lingers outside the secure entrance to the lab. _Get it together, Lee. You’ve got to do this. Focus._ He has to get Felix started on the data and then he’ll find Kara, tell her as much as he can. Tell her that he loves her.

He takes the last few steps towards the lab and swipes his ID card, frowning when the reader bleats at him. Looking down to his hand, he sees the slight bobble as his heart pumps blood and adrenaline through his body. He swipes the card again, slower this time and pushes the door open at the high-pitched chirp. He never imagined that his work on cylon history and technology would ever lead to this: he’s been ordered to Armistice Station to help the Fleet negotiate with a splinter faction of cylons who are trying to prevent a massive attack on the Twelve Worlds. Every single thing about it is incomprehensible.

With a final shake of his head to clear it, Lee pushes the lab door open to stride inside, his eyes finding Felix. “Lieutenant!” he calls out, his tone sharp. Felix glances up, surprised, and drops a book onto the table to walk crisply over to Lee. 

“Change in plans. Everything from Graystone needs to be scanned immediately. We’ve got to tear down the books and sheet feed them into the OCR readers. No time to review by hand.” Lee can’t keep the breathlessness out of his voice.

“But the journals? I thought we were preserving them?” Felix blinks and shakes his head, confusion and dismay wrinkling his brow. For months, Lee has managed the restoration of the journals, volume after volume of hand-made leather notebooks that held the most important writings by Daniel Graystone. It was Lee who’d found them and Lee who lobbied to have them preserved as historical artifacts.

“I can’t explain, Felix. We have to get all of the documents online and churning through the readers. I don’t want to destroy them either, but we also don’t have the time to hand scan every page. It would take months – there are thousands of pages.” 

Felix takes a moment to assimilate the information and nods. “Right. I’ll start with the loose sheets and get Leslie to feed them into readers ASAP. If I can, I’ll see about cutting the bindings to free the pages without destroying the books. Maybe when this crisis—whatever it is—is over, we can re-assemble them?” 

His tone lilts hopefully at the end of his suggestion and Lee nods. Felix’s love of old books, along with his other skills, was one of the reasons he requested that the man join his team. “Do what you can to save them, but time is our priority. I need everything scanned in the next three days, so cancel your plans. We’re going to have some long days.”

:: :: ::

Two hours turned into ten and by the time Lee leaves the lab, the lights on Caprica Base are switching on, illuminating the sidewalks from his building to the parking lot where he parked his car. He climbs inside the small vehicle and turns the key, his thoughts only about Kara now. With a check of clock on the dashboard, he backs out of the space and stabs the send button on his phone.

Kara answers a moment later. “Meet me at my apartment. I’ve got news.” His breath is coming fast as he takes the local streets towards Point Levere, the gentrified district of Caprica City where he lives.

“No, I can’t say anything over the comm. Can you come?” Lee smiles at her response. “I’ll see you soon.” He ends the call and drops the phone onto the passenger seat, mentally rehearsing what he’s going to say to her. He wants her in his life and he has to let her know.

Lee finds a parking space three blocks away from his apartment, pretty typical for dinnertime near the bustling dining area in his neighborhood. As he opens the door to get out, music from a local bar filters into the street. He slams the door closed and heads towards his street, dodging tented placards advertising restaurant specials and happy hour deals. He stops to wait for the traffic light and glances across the street, taking sight of a blue awning over one of the older neighborhood shops, and an idea sparks in his mind. He dashes across the busy intersection, mindless of the honking of horns and steps inside. Ten minutes later, he emerges, his heart racing as he takes the last block to his brick-faced building and mounts the couple of steps up to the door.

“Lee!” He hears behind him as he types in the door code. 

“Kara,” Lee calls out with a breathy half-grin, waving her towards him. “Come on upstairs.” 

She rushes forward and follows him into the foyer and up the one flight to his apartment. He shoves the key into the lock and swings the door wide revealing the small kitchen, its counters clean and bare of clutter. The window above the sink, open a crack, lets the faint sounds of traffic fill the room. 

He’s nearly out of breath by the time he closes the door and Kara puts a hand out towards him. 

“Lee, what is going on? I’ve never seen you like this.” Her hazel eyes are wide as she faces him, mouth open in question.

Lee moves towards her, almost unable to say the words. “I’m shipping out in four days.” His voice sounds high and awkward and he swallows.

Kara blinks in surprise, her face screwing up in confusion. “Four days? What are you talking about?” Her hands go to her hips.

“I can’t tell you anything, but it’s frakked up. I don’t want to go, but I’ve got no choice.” He steps closers, puts his hands on her shoulders and squeezes.

“What’s going on? What happened?” He feels her hands on his chest, warm and firm pushing at him. 

He stays silent, shaking his head, knowing that he can’t keep secrets from her, but forcing himself to be still. “I can’t.”

Kara shakes her head, allowing a strand of hair to fall into her face from her ponytail. “Four days? To where?” She shoves the hair behind her ear and steps back, turning away from him to stare at the wall above the table. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to go.” He waits for her to turn around, feels like he can’t push even though he just wants to hold her forever.

She finally looks back and he sees the emotion she’s fighting it down. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me you’ll wait, Kara. Please.” He closes the distance between them, heart bursting, and grips her shoulders. “I love you, Kara. I know it’s crazy, but gods, this past month has been the best time in my life. I am sick about this.” He doesn’t wait for her reaction, just pulls her roughly into his arms, burying his face into her hair. “I don’t want to leave this. You.” He feels her arms snake around his waist, breathes a sigh when she squeezes him back with just as much force.

“Lee,” she says in a small voice. “I love you, too.”

:: :: ::

Their lovemaking is fast and sharp, filled with heightened emotion until they are gasping in each other’s arms, sharing sudden feelings and tumbling down together in a heap on the bed. Lee’s heart feels like it hasn’t stopped pounding since he heard the news from his CO and it’s only now that he’s connected to Kara, felt her real and heard her words, that he takes a breath, lets his mind and body settle for a few moments. _She loves him._ If everything wasn’t so shitty, he’d frakking shout it to the stars. 

Nestling beside him, Kara’s breathing calms, too, and they lay intertwined, fingers absently tracing skin, enjoying their time together. Lee has allowed this for himself, knowing that he might not get another chance. Tomorrow, five new assistants are expected with equipment and he doesn’t expect to get room to breathe until he ships out. 

“Is it dangerous?” Kara finally asks, her head pressed against his chest, hair tickling his chin.

“Yeah, I think so. But not like a dogfight, but intense. I wish I could tell you, Kara. I want you with me.” Lee tries not to imagine what will happen if his mission is not successful. He can’t think about what he already knows about the cylons’ plans. _Destroy the Twelve Worlds._ The magnitude of it is something he can hardly comprehend.

“Take a post, Kara. Off world.” The words tumble out before he can stop them. He has to say something.

Kara lifts her head abruptly. “What? What’s going to happen?”

“Take that battlestar posting that Colonel Haberstam is always bugging you about. Get off Caprica.”

Kara sits up and stares at him. “You’re scaring me.”

Lee shakes his head. “Frak. Just do it, Kara. Please. Trust me. You trust me, right?” 

She nods and he reaches out for her to pull her down on top of him again. “Say you’ll leave, Kara.” For a brief second he feels guilty about Zak and his family and everyone else he can’t warn. He’s doing what he can and he knows Zak will never leave flight school. 

Kara lies down on top of him, her face almost touching his. “Okay.” 

Lee smiles and leans up to kiss her, pulling her body as tightly against his as he can. _She needs to be safe._

:: :: ::

Morning comes too fast and Lee wakes suddenly, blinking to clear his vision and glancing around the room for Kara. He hears the toilet flush and he climbs out of bed, heading to find her down the narrow hall. 

He steps into the doorway of the bathroom, sees her splashing water on her face. “Hey,” he says as if nothing awful is going to happen to them.

“Hey,” she answers back, pulling a blue towel off the rack and pressing it to her face before speaking. “You want coffee?” 

“Love some.” He catches her eyes, seeing the tiredness, a sadness that he doesn’t want to feel himself. Last night was a miracle and he knows it will carry him through. Only one more thing to do and then he’ll be ready.

“I’ll run out and get it. Be back in five.” Lee notices that Kara’s already dressed in her jeans and t-shirt. She drags her hand across his abdomen and tilts her head up to kiss him quickly on the mouth. Her smile is sad as she moves past him and heads towards the door. 

“Lee? I’ve got no cash. You have any?” Her voice calls out to him from the living room.

“Yeah, in my jacket.” His mind is already counting down the minutes. He relieves himself and jumps into the shower, lathering quickly and hopping out so he doesn’t miss a single moment with her. This last hour they have together means everything to him. He has no idea what will happen then.

He’s drying off when he hears the door open and close. “I’ll be out in a second. Just grabbed a shower,” he calls out to her and pads to the bedroom to throw on shorts and a tank. Two minutes later he walks into the kitchen, a smile on his face.

Kara’s sitting at the table, the two cups of coffee still nested in their tray, a white pastry bag unopened.

“Kara?” _Something’s wrong._

“What is this, Lee?” She turns, her face pale. Lee steps towards her, sees the blue velvet box opened on the table. 

“Hey, you weren’t supposed to see that.” He tries to make a joke and swoops in to grab the ring, snapping it closed.

Kara just stares at him, her face pale, eyes rimmed with dark circles. 

He feels dread churning inside him. “Kara?” 

“Is that for me?” She begins to shake her head, dropping her eyes.

Lee fingers the box, his hands trembling as he watches emotions cross her face. This isn’t what he planned at all. “I love you, Kara. I don’t know, I just thought…” He holds out the box wanly, his eyes searching her out for any sign.

“I can’t.” Kara stands, shoving the chair out behind her. They face each other, breathing fast and Lee has no idea what is happening. 

“Okay. Okay. It was a stupid idea.” He puts the box in his pocket and turns away, feeling the flush rise into his cheeks. He stares blindly out the window, a knot of humiliation forming in his throat. _What was he thinking?_

Her voice comes from behind him, sounding strangled and so faint that he barely hears. When the words come, he recoils, disbelief spinning him around to gape at her.

“I’m already married, Lee.”

 

**PART TWO**

Armistice Station comes slowly into view as Lee’s military transport turns and begins moving into position to dock. Lee leans toward the small window and rubs his eyes as the ship edges closer and he can make out the features of the small station. Its shape is familiar to every child, a symbol of the unity between the cylons and humans, a sign of hope despite the fact that the cylons had never visited it. The excitement of visiting this legendary place, however, doesn’t reach his weary mind, the events of the previous six days whittling down his coping reserves like sandpaper over wood. 

Steeling himself for the mission ahead, Lee reaches under his seat and pulls out his blue canvas pack. It contains a drive with the entirety of his research on the cylons and Daniel Graystone, the most valuable asset he has. Lee slides his stack of papers into a side pocket along with his pen, mentally noting where he stopped his review, hoping in his tired state that what he’s done makes sense. For the entire two-day trip, he’s buried himself in his work, struggling to focus on the mission and to memorizing and mentally cataloguing the notes of the man responsible for the creation of the cylons. The urgency of his mission has helped him push most of his anguish aside, forcing a path through sharp and twisted memories of his break up with Kara. Everything he’d thought a week ago was gone. His new life, what he had of it, needs to be about the helping the Fleet with the cylon negotiations. He has to keep his focus – everything depends on it.

With a grimace, Lee zips up the pack and settles back into his seat to wait for the cue to disembark. He has a million things on his mind and doesn’t want to think about her anymore. _I’m already married._ He squeezes his eyes shut, feels the tremor of pain wash over him and then pass. _I can do this._

When ship finally docks, Lee hears the clanking of metal doors and tightens his fingers around the straps of his bag. The magnitude of his mission has suddenly hit and he breathes to contain a sharp spike in his panic. _Cylons are here!_ A childhood terror clutches at him and it takes his entire focus to calm his pounding heart. 

A moment later, someone calls his name and he turns to the sound of the voice behind him, oddly relieved to see a human face. Lee moves into the aisle to greet a small woman with a dark brown ponytail and almond-shaped brown eyes. The Marine behind her watches them with a focused gaze, his hands on his TK-91 assault rifle, body ready for action. The tension Lee already feels increases tenfold and he squares his shoulders. _Here we go._

The officer gives him a tight smile, pressing her full lips together in an official greeting. “Captain Shaw, sir. Good to meet you.” 

Lee gives a smile and shakes her hand. “Captain. Everything okay?” Despite the situation, it is still strange to be met on the ship by a Fleet officer.

“Yes, sir. If you’ll follow me.” Lee follows Captain Shaw through the back of the ship and down the aft steps to go immediately through a set of sliding double doors. Lee glances back, surprised to be leaving through the ships engineering section.

“Secure entrance, sir,” Kendra offers, as if anticipating his questions. “The cylons don’t know you are here and we’d like to keep it that way.”

“Are they watching?” Lee glances from side to side, not quite knowing what he expects to see.

“Never know, Captain.” Her voice is calm in contrast to the rough anxious sound of his own and he nods, following as Captain Shaw leads him through several corridors and down another flight of stairs before coming to a secured door. She lays her palm on the scanner and the door clicks. They enter a white-paneled room with low-ceilings and the familiar hum of computer equipment. A long table against the far wall holds a bank of computers. Two round tables in the center are stacked with military files and papers and a few coffee cups abandoned between the stacks. 

On the opposing wall, precisely written notes fill a whiteboard save one section of messier scrawl with arrows and lines connecting phrases. Lee sees an older woman with a dark mop of closely-cropped hair turn and walk towards him. 

“Captain,” she says, her voice holding a depth of authority similar to his father’s. 

Lee recognizes her immediately and surges into a salute. “Admiral Nagala,” he says. 

The woman, her face lined with age, a scar on her right cheek, returns his salute. “At ease, Captain. We’re glad to have you here.”

Lee nods and waits for the legendary Admiral to speak. For forty years, she’s been an outspoken proponent of preparing for the eventual return of the cylons, but her voice had faded into the background recently as the war no long resonated with the Colonists. He’s not surprised to find that she’s leading the cylon negotiations. 

“How is your father, Captain?” Nagala waves for him to follow and he shifts his pack more comfortably on his shoulder. 

“Um…I’m sure he’s fine, sir. I haven’t spoken to him in a while.” Lee feels suddenly exposed, his eighteen-month feud with his father feeling immature in the face of this life-changing event. Some part of him worries for his safety, but Lee pushes it away. He can take care of himself.

“Military families are notoriously difficult, Lee, if I can call you that. I’ve known your father for a long time.” 

“Yes, sir. Lee is fine.” Nagala leads him to the second sparsely covered conference table and motions for him to sit. Lee drops his bag against the legs of the chair and slides onto the edge, his hands nestled into his lap as he waits for the admiral to speak.

Nagala sits comfortably, elbows on the table, hands loosely clasped over a military file. Kendra leans close, whispering something in her ear. Nagala nods and speaks to Lee, “Do you have the Graystone files? What do you make of them?”

“I have the drive here, sir. It would be a good idea to copy the information before I install it into one of the computers. Graystone has made mention of data corruption in the cylon databases. For caution’s sake, run a bit-by-bit one-way copy and verify it with two protocols. I can do it myself or –“

“Captain Shaw will take care of it,” Nagala interrupts, glancing at her aide. “She’s one of our finest computer people.” Kendra offers a tight smile and Lee reaches into his pack and pulls out the small box containing the drive. He slides it across the table, making brief eye contact with Captain Shaw. Her face offers nothing. Absently, Lee thinks she’d be pretty if she just smiled. 

Lee also pulls out two embossed leather-bound books and lays them in front of him. “These are two of Graystone’s original journals from the Atlas Arena time period. I’ve brought them because the scans of his journals tend to be inaccurate – his writing is practically indecipherable. I believe that these journals contain what we might need to undermine the cylon programming. I have six more in my bag from critical periods in cylon history. And I’m sorry, sir, I’ve only had time to do a cursory review.”

Nagala’s lips flatten and she nods almost imperceptibly, her gray eyes focused on his face. “This has caught us all by surprise, Captain, but I can see that my instincts in choosing you for his mission were correct. It seems clear that you’ve guessed our strategy before we’ve revealed it to you. Yes, we want to know how the cylons tick, how we can interrupt their programming, what we can do to stop them from the inside out. For their part, the cylon representative has avoided discussing their genesis altogether. But the cylon has made it clear that we cannot defeat them militarily. I believe it.” 

Nagala leans forward, tapping her fingers on the table, thick eyebrows drawn together. She’s so close that he can see the fine dark hairs around the corners of her mouth. “You need to understand them, Captain. Get inside their heads, figure them out. We’ve got no time and almost no expertise these forty years later. We need a non-military strategy and your intuition and knowledge might just save our asses.” Nagala lets out a woosh of air and stands. Lee rises automatically along with Kendra. He’s more than a little in shock.

“Yes, sir,” Lee says and grips one of the journals, feeling the symbol of Graystone Industries embossed on the cover.

“Captain Shaw, please assist Captain Adama with the Graystone data transfer and show him to his quarters.” Nagala tugs at her jacket sleeves. “Our next meeting with the cylon delegate is at 2100 hours. You’ll watch on a private feed with Captain Shaw. Get some rest if you can. It will be a very long night.” 

Lee salutes as the Admiral leaves the table, easing only when the woman fully turns her back. Kendra is watching him as he lowers his arm and he lets out a nervous laugh. “She’s very intense.” He wipes his damp palms on his trousers.

“So would you be if you had the entire fate of the human race resting on your shoulders.” Her voice is brittle and defensive.

Lee swallows. “I wasn’t being disrespectful.” 

“Can we get on with the drive transfer?” Kendra says, ignoring his words. Lee bristles and simply nods, the muscle in his jaw flicking as he picks up his bag and follows her to the computer bank against the back wall. Maybe a longer night than even Nagala expects.

:: :: ::

Hours later, Lee follows a stiff-backed Kendra down two flights his quarters, nodding as she gives him a tight smile and a farewell. Lee stares after her slightly shaking his head. Working side by side for the last six hours had done nothing to soften her attitude towards him and he takes a deep breath and lets it go. He’s too frakking tired to care.

Lee slips inside the small two-bunked room, dropping his bag on the floor, and begins to strip off his uniform. He hangs his jacket over the desk chair, thinking vaguely that he’d be wearing it again in a matter of hours. His shoulders ache from hours hunched over the computer and he stretches out tired muscles as he removes his tanks and trousers. He needs a shower and a meal, but only one is available this time of night, so he strips and steps into the tiled stall. 

He barely has the energy to soap, but he’s desperate to sleep so he makes quick work of it and towels off, dressing in fresh tanks and shorts. His mind is nearly blank as he collapses onto the rack and closes his eyes. He’s hovering on the edge of sleep, willing his body to let go of the tension of the day when Kara’s face comes to him, sad and wide-eyed, imploring him to understand. His body remembers his reaction and he flips towards the wall, ramming his knees against the bulkhead. 

_“How could you do this to me? It’s humiliating.”_ Lee had slammed his fist against the countertop, anger and shame making him deaf to her words. It had been a frakking joke.

With a feeling of nausea, Lee stabs his hand under the pillow and clenches his teeth. He can’t deal with this right now. It’s too much. With a long breath, he wills his body to relax, for sleep to come, but instead of the darkness, he feels a wave of exhausted grief come instead. 

For almost a week he’d managed to keep the worst of it away, focusing on every detail, every scrap of information he could find until he’d collapsed night after night in his lab, almost afraid to go back to his apartment where he’d seen her last. 

Now, though, in the extreme quiet of Armistice Station, he’s too strung out and raw to stop the pain. Too overwhelmed to fight any more. With tears stinging his eyes, he flips again on the small rack, tucks the pillow under his head and lets it come. 

:: :: ::

When Lee’s watch beeps, his eyes spring open and for a disoriented moment he glances around the room and waits for familiarity settle in. In the fog of his dream, Kara is crying as he slams a door, her words taking on a psychedelic echo as he runs through an unfamiliar station of white walls and endless corridors. His empty stomach feels raw and he rubs at his face, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. 

With a shiver in the cold room, Lee rubs his arms and stands, stretching and yawning after only a few hours of sleep. With the realization that he will see cylons today, his mind snaps into place again, the grief and weariness of the night before left behind. _What they had is over._

An hour later, Lee sits stiffly in a hard metal chair in a surveillance room, a small space with a table and a closed-circuit color monitor. Captain Shaw sits next to him, fingers speeding over a handheld device while Lee scribbles notes on a military-issue notepad. His heart has been racing, body and mind now on full alert as he considers the implications of what he sees in front of him. _The cylons look like us!_ He breathes slowly to mask his shock, aware of Shaw’s presence at his side. 

The cylon speaks clearly, voice betraying no particular emotion. “Brother Cavil has infiltrated the human population with our brothers and sisters,” the human-like cylon speaks in clear tones, blue eyes focused on Admiral Nagala as she speaks, red lips shiny with dark lipstick. Her symmetrical face is framed by bright blond hair, curled back and away from skin heavy with makeup. Lee wonders at the dark eye shadow, garish by Caprican standards, but striking and beautiful on this machine that looks more perfect than a supermodel. Lee is transfixed by the perfection of her face and forces himself to look away, remember his mission, try to stop himself from freaking out that they are indistinguishable from their human counterparts. 

“How long have the cylons been living in the Colonies?” Nagala asks, her face cool. The cylon frowns, eyebrows drawn down.

“Two years,” she, or is it ‘it’ Lee wonders, gives an exasperated sigh. “We’ve been over this before. The embeds in the Twelve Worlds cannot be contacted or stopped. Some do not even know they are cylons. You have to plan for the attack fleet, not the operatives on the ground. They are a needle in a haystack.”

Lee’s ears perk up at that phrase, a colloquialism from Tauron that surprises him. Apparently one of the cylons has been to Tauron. He makes a note on the tablet and listens.

Nagala nods. “So, tell me more about this fleet – how many ships, what are their capabilities, weaknesses? We need the location of their hub – the place where these ships of yours are docked. If we can knock them out, they can be defeated.”

The cylon clamps her lips closed and leans back, eyes flickering to the other officer in the room as he leans forward. Colonel Waterson, a middle-aged man with blond-gray hair and rheumy blue eyes, stares intently at the blond machine. He has a well-known reputation as a military hardliner and his tone shows it. “Tell us something we can use to defeat Brother Cavil. So far, you’ve only given us vague information that gets us nowhere. We can’t mobilize our vipers, can’t find your moles, can’t do much more than erect a defense for the Colonies that you say won’t work. What do you want from us?”

Lee sees Waterson’s nostrils flare, frustration evident before he sits back in his chair. Admiral Nagala picks up the questioning again, her voice a smooth counterpart to the Colonel’s. “What do you want us to do to help you? I am sure you came here with a plan, but you’ll forgive us if we’re not eager to trust you.” Nagala’s brow furrows and she leans forward. “Tell me how you got here, why you are rebelling, _why_ we should trust you. Frankly, we’ve been talking for five days and I feel no closer to a solution. Time is passing and we have no plan.”

The cylon sighs, seeming to make a decision. “A small contingent of my brothers and sisters will come to Armistice Station within the solar day. I must speak to them and then I can reveal the answers to your questions.”

Lee sees the flicker of surprise on Nagala’s face, matching his own. “You’ve been in contact with them?” 

“Yes, of course.” The cylon gives a ghostly smile, reminding them all who is in charge. Lee glances sharply at Kendra who raises her eyebrows in surprise. The Fleet is isolated at Armistice Station, using raptors with FTL drives to relay messages back to awaiting vessels.

Lee watches Nagala stand, looking down at the cylon, her irritation evident. “Let us adjourn then. We will await your brothers and sisters. I hope they have a plan.”

Nagala and Waterson turn and head towards the human doors, leaving the cylon staring after them, her face unreadable. As she leaves the meeting room, Lee turns to Kendra. “What do you think she’s hiding?”

“Everything. That thing hasn’t told us anything we can use. All we know is that the cylons look like us now.” Kendra stabs her handheld and flicks it off. “I’ve got to get to the Admiral.” She pushes the chair back without a second glance and swings the door open.

“Captain Shaw,” Lee says sharply, unable to contain his irritation. Kendra stops and turns, eyes narrowed in irritation. “Look, I don’t know why you’ve got against me, but we’re supposed to be observing and discussing the cylons. You’ve barely spoken to me.”

She gives him a measuring look. “It’s not my job to babysit you, Captain. When you have news to share, you can let the Admiral know.”

Kendra spins on her heel and leaves Lee staring after her. _What the frak?_

:: :: ::

Lee finds Admiral Nagala an hour later, sitting in the small conference room that now serves as her office. 

“Admiral,” Lee says, saluting at the door. “Permission to enter.”

“Come in, Lee. Have a seat.” Nagala drops her files on the desk in apparent frustration. “You watched the meeting? Any thoughts?” 

“I can’t believe they look like us, sir. Or at least they look so much like us.” Something had come to mind for Lee in the time after Kendra left him sitting alone.

“What do you mean?” Nagala leans forward, eyebrow raised.

“This will probably come as a surprise to you, sir, but Graystone made a flesh-based cylon.”

Nagala’s eyes widened. “What?” For the first time, her face expresses an emotion outside her stiff military posture.

“In the files, sir. Daniel Graystone talks about making a cylon body and he references flesh and blood.”

“Frak. I can’t believe we didn’t know this. We could have been prepared.” Nagala slides her hands down her cheeks to press her fingers together against her lips. 

Lee explains what he means. “Graystone’s notes are sparse, but there are passages where he’s talking about his estranged wife, Amanda Graystone. She was a plastic surgeon and he writes about her efforts to create a flesh body for an avatar. I don’t exactly know what he means by an avatar, but I expect I’ll find out the farther I go back in his history. Graystone’s journals are difficult to read and it’s going to take some time to get the details out of them.”

“Then I’ll assign Captain Shaw to assist you. You’ll tell her what you are looking for. I am sure she can come up to speed quickly.” Nagala shifts in her seat and uncrosses her legs to lean forward. “If Graystone knew how the bodies were constructed, maybe we can find out how they became sentient. _Something_ that might save our asses.” Nagala scribbled some notes onto a notepad.

Lee nodded. “There’s something else, sir.”

The Admiral raised her eyes to Lee’s, cuing him to continue. “I am guessing that there are batches of bodies for the cylons – somehow grown or created like clones and then implanted with the consciousness. Given the humans history of cloning, it is incredibly difficult to create new and viable versions.”

“How do you know they are clones?” The Admiral gave him a quizzical expression.

“It doesn’t make sense that they’d have the ability to create so many humanoid cylon models without cloning. Unless, of course, they have some technology for rapidly aging babies. How would they make thousands of them in forty years? That’s only two generations.” Lee wasn’t sure of the math, but it made enough sense to suggest it to the Admiral.

“So, you think there are other cylons out there that look like the cylon we’ve been negotiating with?” 

“Yes, sir. I can’t be sure, but that’s my guess.” Lee mentally crosses his fingers that he’s right.

Admiral Nagala nods and rises, pacing the small room as Lee watches. “We got it all wrong.”

“What’s that, sir?”

She stops and leans against the table to face him, arms crossed over her chest. “During the cylon war, your father found a cylon laboratory. It was grotesque by his accounts – human bodies sewn together, experimented on, bodies connected to machines. We thought they were experimenting on humans to develop torture techniques or make medical discoveries. But now...” 

“You think they were making clones to blend in with the humans,” Lee fills in the blanks and the Admiral nods.

Nagala walks to the end of her desk and punches the comm with a stubby finger. “Get me the best three images you can of the cylon’s face. Front view and two profile views.” She pauses. “Yes, like a mug shot. I want hardcopy and digital version in fifteen minutes. And prepare a raptor to jump back with a message.” Nagala cuts off the line and faces Lee again.

“This could be the break we need, Captain. We’ve got no leverage with the cylons. If we can find an operative, we’ll be one step closer.”

“May I suggest something, sir?” Her eyebrows are furrowed in thought and she glances at Lee, waiting for him to continue. “Wait until the other cylons arrive. I have a feeling that if they are clones, they don’t want us to know. It would make it too easy to identify multiple copies of the same one. We might want to send photos of the cylon’s brothers and sisters, too.”

Nagala’s already nodding as Lee completes his statement. “Thank you, Captain. Meet with Captain Shaw and apprise her of our discussion. I’ll expect a report on the cylon consciousness as soon as you have it.”

Lee stands, giving a sharp salute, holding his mouth from edging into a smile; there’s little about Nagala that he doesn’t like. “Yes, sir.” Moments later, he’s headed down the corridor to find Kendra Shaw.

:: :: ::

Stifling a yawn, Lee stretches out his fingers, aching after hours writing and typing, and blinks hard to focus on the computer screen in front of him. He’s gotten good at deciphering Graystone’s scrawl, but he’s gotten so little sleep over the past week that he can barely remember his name. It’s these moments he hates the most, when his mind is too tired not to think of her, when the words blur and he can almost feel her beside him, the smell of cigars on her skin, the roughness of her pilot’s hands.

“Here, listen to this,” Kendra says, tapping the screen next to him. Lee’s eyes snap to hers, thoughts of Kara roughly pushed aside.

Kendra begins to read a passage about Amanda Graystone, filling in some of the blanks about her role in the creation of the first body. “They both worked on cylon bodies. Do you know if Amanda Graystone kept journals? Or maybe she kept medical notes?” Kendra’s voice lilts, accenting certain syllables until he finally pinpoints her dialect.

“Arduin Mountains, Picon,” Lee blurts out and Kendra stops reading and turns her head.

“What?” Her brow furrows.

“Picon. You’re from Picon. Your accent has been driving me crazy since I met you. I couldn’t place it.” He smiles at her, too tired to keep up the pretense of disliking her. Frankly, he doesn’t.

“You could have just asked,” she drawls, looking back to the computer and tapping the space bar.

“What? And have my head bitten off? No thanks.” Lee wrinkles his mouth and drops his eyes back to the notes he’s been taking.

Kendra doesn’t say anything right away, but he feels the energy in the room change. 

“You’ve been there?” Kendra finally asks as she types into her handheld.

“No, but I was a fan of the Quorum Delegate – wait. Frak. Do you know her? Marta Shaw?” Lee sits straight up in his seat, slightly revived.

“My mother. She’s dead.” 

Lee’s eyes go wide. He’d known about the Quorum Member’s death, but Kendra’s tone says something troubling. “I’d say sorry, but you don’t seem to sorry.” He’s not sure why he feels bold to say what he thinks around her.

“I _am_ sorry, Captain.” Kendra turns her gaze to him once more, her brown eyes betraying little. “But I’ve gotten shit about my mother since I joined the military. She didn’t get me this post. I earned it.” Kendra half snarls the words and her expression leaves no doubt about her feelings.

Lee chuckles and taps lightly on the keys to log out of the computer program. Kendra flashes her eyes at him. “What’s so amusing?”

“You.” Lee appraises her with a smirk. “My father is a battlestar Commander, lifetime military. And a war hero. Don’t even talk to me about nepotism crap. Why do you think I’m not a pilot? I got sick of the whole frakking thing.” Lee stands as he talks, closing the buttons on his duty blues. 

Kendra watches him as he scoops up his notebook and pen, tucking them under his arm. Lee feels unexpectedly giddy about the conversation. Finally, he has her figured out; it’s a whole bunch of bravado he couldn’t understand better.

With a nod of his head, he skirts past her chair and heads out the door. “Night, Kendra. I’ll see you in the morning.”

:: :: ::

The next morning, Lee sits with Lieutenant Selmer, Colonel Waterson’s aide, as they flick through the recorded meeting between the new cylons and Nagala’s negotiating team. As the footage plays, Lee watches for the second time, observing the expressions of the now three known cylons: two women and a man, or at least machines designed to look like women and men. 

_“We have come to believe that peace is our best option with humans. Brother Cavil has a personal vendetta against humans and we no longer agree. We believe humans have evolved and are capable of peace. We want to pursue that peace.”_

The Eight, as she had called herself, said those words, her delicate features lit with a ghost of a smile. Beside her stood their brother, introduced as Two, nodding without expression. Now, as the video plays, Lee watches them both closely, having studied the blond cylon for the past day and a half. They are physically different, but there’s an air about them, as if they have a shared secret and more than ever, Lee is convinced that they are getting a very tiny portion of the full truth about the cylon race.

The one thing Lee is now certain of is that there are a limited number of cylon base units – at least six that they know of. The blond cylon, finally revealing her name as Six, has retreated a little, giving her sister the opportunity to fill in some of the tactical details. The two of them are starkly contrasted, with the Six nearly a foot taller than the Eight, her body stiff and poised with full breasts under a form-fitting red tank while the Eight’s thin frame barely fills out the silky top and dark pants she’s wearing. The Two, carelessly dressed in a printed brown shirt and light pants doesn’t say much, just watches with a penetrating gaze while his sisters speak to Nagala and Waterson. 

Lee watches the interactions of the three as they speak almost in tandem, finishing each other’s sentences and working almost as a connected unit. Lee speaks aloud to the Lieutenant, “I wonder how they’re doing that? Maybe they’re connected somehow? Right here, look…” Lee points to the screen as the Six smoothly concludes Two’s thoughts. 

“What the frak?” Selmer says and they exchange wary glances. _They are exactly like twins._

A moment later, the Admiral appears in the doorway. “Show me what you have.” She stands behind them watching as the junior officer scrolls through the prepared ‘mug shots’ of the three cylons. She nods with approval, her face grim. “Give the hardcopies and two digital copies on separate media to Captain Taly. She’ll jump them to the Atlantia within the hour. And cross your fingers because I think that Six cylon was right – they will be like finding a needle in a haystack.” Nagala nods, glancing back down to the sheaf of papers in her hand as she turns and leaves them to finish their work. 

:: :: ::

Lee rifles through the small Armistice Station galley in search of dinner, his stomach growling as he pushes boxes aside to find the noodles he’s been craving. Too salty and pasty, he realizes, but they’ve been a favorite of his since his brief days in the Academy. He pulls out one and then, unexpectedly, another and opens them, pouring water inside and popping them into the microwave. 

As he waits, glancing at the rotating tray, he surveys their remaining rations. For three weeks they’ve been eating on the run, sparing only moments to feed themselves and despite the infrequent meals, the rations are diminishing. Battlestar Atlantia, he knows, is only an FTL jump away, but its presence has been concealed from the cylons so far. He expects the same is true of their basestars. Ever cautious, the cylons are slowly revealing their capabilities, but their interactions continue to be relatively heated with Colonel Waterson pushing them aggressively for military details. 

With the long beep of the food being done, Lee pulls the cardboard containers out, setting them on a small tray with two drinks and chopsticks. He feels a tick of nervousness as he approaches the lab, balancing the tray in one hand as he pulls the door open. Across the room he sees the top of Kendra’s head, having barely moved for five hours.

“Hey,” Lee says, greeting her and placing the food between them. “I brought you some dinner.” He gives her a half-smile, unable to keep the uncertainty out of his voice. 

Kendra glances at the food and then up to him, her face softening in a rare and surprised smile. “Oh, thanks, Lee. I didn’t even think of food.” She reaches for a container of noodles and peels off the paper lid. “They smell great. I think I might be starving.” Stabbing the chopsticks into the bowl, she stirs carefully, blowing across the top as steam rises in a swirling plume. 

Kendra blows over the noodles to cool them. “Haven’t had these since before I joined the Ministry of Defense. Maybe all the way back to basic communications training.” She twists a clump noodles around the two sticks and raises them towards her open mouth.

“I’ve had more of these than I can count. They’re easy and quick when I’m working in the lab all day.” Lee’s on his second bite, the taste welcoming and familiar. “I found these at the bottom of the pantry – I don’t think anyone else wanted them.”

After a moment, Lee glances at Kendra and speaks again. “Why Ministry of Defense? You could have had any posting.” They’ve long since acknowledged the partially unwanted privileges of their famous parents. 

“Admiral Nagala. I’ve idolized her for years and when her old aide was killed in a car accident, well, I jumped on the chance.” Kendra shrugs when Lee looks at her – she’s ambitious for sure. “I had been considering taking a post back on Picon, to be near my mother when she was sick, but it was a chance I couldn’t pass up.” She drops Lee’s eyes and stirs her noodles again, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb.

“That must have been hard. Leaving her when she was sick.” Lee’s not sure how she’s going to take it, the prying, but he asks anyway.

Kendra nods, dropping the container of noodles back onto the tray and letting out a sigh. “She died a few months later. I spent as much time with her as I could.” She resumes typing at the computer and Lee stares at her profile for a long second before taking the last bite of his noodles and settling his empty cup next to hers. 

Feeling uncomfortable, Lee offers up something about himself. “My dad wasn’t happy when I dropped out of flight school. Or maybe I should say he was livid.” Lee chuckles and shakes his head. “Since I could walk, he talked about me becoming a pilot. I think I broke his heart.” It’s one of the first times he’s actually considered what it might have meant to his dad and part of him doesn’t want to care.

Kendra glances at him, studying his face and then shifts back to her screen. “My mother thought I’d go into the Reserves and go back to college to study literature and Picon history.” Kendra shrugs. “Have to do what your gut tells you. That wasn’t for me.” She taps on the keys, scrolling through a journal entry.

Lee nods, smiling ruefully. “Easier said than done.” 

Kendra looks at him, eyebrow raised. “You did it, though.”

“I also haven’t talked to my dad in almost two years. Came at a price.” Lee spins in his chair to face the computer screen again, unsettled by the memory of his last shouting match with his father. How their distance hurt Zak who loved them both. “My brother’s a pilot. That’s going to have to be good enough.” With a short breath, he shoves the thoughts away and focuses on the digital scrawl of Daniel Graystone. He’s become adept at reading it, filling in the blanks where he needs to.

Others bustle around the lab, consulting star charts and meeting about tactics while Kendra and Lee immerse themselves in the Graystone files. The team has splintered into a few factions with Lee and Kendra taking the lead on analyzing the cylon genesis through Graystone’s notes. 

Eventually, the room grows quiet as Lee follows a trail of meetings that Graystone had with the Ha’la’tha about using the cylons as companions to assist humans in everyday tasks. It’s here that he expects to read about their ability to think independently – that they are self-aware, but he finds nothing. 

Randomly, he finds a brief passage that seems unrelated. “Kendra, listen to this.” 

_Zoe’s consciousness lives! She managed to survive the U-87 blast and Amanda says a flesh body might be viable. We’re going to try to retrieve her from V-World, but I don’t know if she’ll accept us._

Kendra wrinkles her brow. “Wait. Zoe Graystone was the first cylon?” She blinks in confusion. “Hold on a sec.”

Tapping keys, Kendra leans close to the computer. “Here. Right after Graystone gets the military order for cylon soldiers. He’s talking about the U-87 and referring to it as _she_. He knew. Godsdamnit, he knew she was in there.”

They shake their heads and stare at each other in shock, before tapping excitedly on their keyboards.  
For the next several hours, Lee and Kendra compare their findings until they come enough conclusions to compile a formal report for the Admiral. This could be the key to everything.

:: :: ::

Lee and Kendra have barely slept when they join the morning briefing with the entire team. Lee rubs at his eyes as he listens to the Admiral speak, outlining her latest thoughts on strategy. Colonel Waterson is particularly quiet, his brow drawn down in irritation. A rift has grown between them as the negotiations drag on without decisive actions by Admiral Nagala. 

Waterson’s attitude upholds his reputation as a hawk, someone who advocates swift, and often violent, action in military matters. It was no error that he was included on the negotiating team, a common strategy in the Fleet to ensure that two perspectives were present at high-level talks. Now, Lee wonders as he watches the pair bristle, what it will cost them.

“We can no longer wait, Admiral. We have enough information to launch a targeted attack. See how good their forces are. For all we know, they have been overestimating their power.” Waterson glances around the table with challenging eyes.

“And then we will reveal our hand. Two has warned us about Cavil’s paranoia and his ignorance about the rebellion. If we attack now, we could lose everything.”

“But we don’t know if any of this is true. It’s naïve. Bring the Fleet closer. Let other strategists in on this planning. You need to consult Fleet Command.” Waterson’s tone sharpens as he tries to influence his superior any way he can.

“I do _not_ need Fleet Command to help me wait. And wait is what we are going to do until we have a plan. Right now, we’ve got a lot of bluster and nothing solid.” She gives Waterson a pointed stare and he clenches his teeth, eyes growing dark. 

“But,” she holds up a finger, letting her posture relax. “I will bring three more battlestars into the fold: the Atlantia will stay hidden, but we’ll bring Pegasus, Solaria, and Galactica to Armistice Station.”

“Galactica? That bucket of bolts won’t be any help.” Waterson practically snorts and Lee freezes. _His father?_ He swallows convulsively.

“Galactica is an old dog, but I want Bill Adama here.” Nagala glances at Lee, her expression almost apologetic. But not quite. “He’s been up close with the cylons and I trust his judgment. And so should you, he’s a hawk, too.” Nagala’s tone is not unkind, but she’s right. His father despises the cylons.

The moment of tension passes and Nagala looks at Kendra. “What do you have for us, Captain?” She’s given word to the Admiral about their findings.

She glances at Lee and he nods. They made the discovery together and he wants her to have the opportunity to shine in front of her boss. 

Kendra begins, “We have confirmation that Daniel Graystone made the first sentient cylon but he hid the information from the government, his own company, and the Tauron Ha’la’tha.”

Nagala, already privy to Lee’s initial hunch, flattens her lips and nods. “What else?”

“We believe that Daniel Graystone’s daughter, Zoe Graystone was the consciousness of the first cylon, but there is indication that the other cylons, the ones who were designed to protect and serve the humans achieved sentience on their own. Graystone knew it was a possibility and he didn’t warn anyone.”

“What does this matter?” Waterson interrupts. “That’s ancient history now.” 

Nagala interjects smoothly, “It matters because we don’t understand cylons. Never have and that has cost us. To us they were machines. Now we can see that they are perfect human copies with a non-human consciousness and we need to understand it if we want to win.”

“What we need to do is move on them now.” Waterson simply refuses to drop his hard military stance.

Nagala glances at him and continues. “I have not ruled out military action, but I believe there is another way to infiltrate behind the scenes, use this datastream that the cylon rebels talk about. The problem is that they refuse to share the technological details. That means we need to figure them out on our own. Understanding how Graystone did it might give us the answers.”

“Use the datastream how?” Lee interrupts, her words sparking something in his mind.

“I don’t know, Captain. A virus? Or maybe to collect data about the size and strength of the cylon fleet? I have no idea, but my gut tells me it’s right.”

Lee swallows. “That would mean we’d have to get on a basestar, sir.”

Nagala gives him a flat stare. “Yes, Captain. We would.” 

Fear slides down Lee's spine.

:: :: ::

Two days later, Lee is sound asleep when he hears banging on his door. “Lee? Wake up? Lee?” More pounding and he snaps awake and jumps out of his rack.

He yanks the door open to find Kendra. “What happened?”

“They’re finding cylons, Lee! Copies, just like you predicted. So far, an Eight on Galactica – a pilot if you can you believe it? And another one on Picon – a Six who was advising a Queenstown councilwoman. I have no idea what she would have accomplished, but they’re finding them!” Kendra’s voice is breathless with excitement and Lee grins. 

“I can’t believe it.” He brushes a hand over his face. “There are copies. I knew it. I can’t believe it, but I knew it!”

Kendra grins. “You were right, Lee. Totally frakking right.”

In his exuberance, Lee surges forward and hugs Kendra tightly. It lasts only a second and then he steps back, blushing bright red. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles and steps away from the door. “Listen, I’ve got to shower and then I’ll see you in the lab." He drops his eyes to the floor and glances up when she moves.

Kendra brushes a hair out of her eyes and smiles at him, seeming none the worse for wear. “It was good work, Lee. I’ll see you down there.” 

Fifteen minutes later, he joins Kendra and the team as they watch video of the initial interrogation at Colonial HQ on Picon. Still stunned, Lee watches the cylon speak, noting the subtle differences in her voice from the Six on Armistice Station. Furthermore, she has a name, Gretchen Miew and claims to be from a small province in the countryside of Picon. Information accompanying the recording indicates that her identity came into existence only two years earlier, but was so well done that they had to check it twice. 

“This changes everything,” Nagala says, easing back in her chair. “Finally, we have an advantage.” 

“What about the other one on Galactica? The pilot. Do we have video of that interrogation?” Waterson interjects. Lee suddenly thinks of his father, how shocked he must have been to get that photograph.

“Bill won’t release it, but he’s on his way and we’ll meet the cylon in person.” Nagala’s face pinches in disgust as she says the words, eyes still focused on the video, zoomed in on the Six’s face.

When the video concludes, Nagala comments, “Either she’s a very good liar or she is one of the cylons that don’t know their own identity.”

“I wonder what would trigger her to wake up?” Lee asks, thinking about Zoe Graystone and her moving from body to body with her consciousness intact.

Waterson answers sarcastically, “She’s a machine – they programmed her to wake up on cue. Probably right when the cylons are going to attack.”

Lee blinks at Waterson’s remark, realizing that he’s begun to think of them as something different than a machine and he is taken aback, confused about his perspective. _They are the enemy._

Nagala pushes her chair back and stands and everyone else does the same. “Galactica and the other ships will be here soon and I want to be prepared for the interview. The Fleet will double their efforts to search for other copies now that we know what we are dealing with.” Nagala glances at Lee. “Good work, Captain. Your intuition has given us our first real break.”

Lee flushes and nods, suppressing a smile but feeling his heart pounding with pride. 

:: :: ::

Lee watches the next set of negotiations from the small surveillance room, his body uneasy in his chair as he watches Waterson press the cylons for more military specifics. 

“Give us a tour of your basestar. Let us examine the technology so we can have a tactical advantage.”

“Out of the question.” Six’s face is hard. It is clear that she does not like Waterson.

Eight speaks, deflecting, “We would be happy to answer a list of technical questions about our capabilities. Submit them in writing and we will give you what you seek.” Eight glances at Six who nods slightly. 

Waterson is obviously not pleased. “Questions are revealing. How do we know you won’t take them and derive _our_ weaknesses?” Waterson leans forward, his eyes pinpoints.

“Enough of this.” Six stands suddenly and the humans startle. Behind them, the Centurions shift and Lee’s pulse quickens. 

“Frakking calm down, Colonel,” Lee mutters to himself, drawing Kendra’s sidelong glance.

Six stares at Waterson, who has also stood, his nostrils flaring. “Hold on, everyone. Colonel, please sit down.” Nagala’s voice is smooth as she stands slowly, arms open in a conciliatory gesture.

Waterson doesn’t budge and the Six steps back, pushing her chair out behind her. “These negotiations are done. You have no faith in our desire to stop the attacks. I’m tired of wasting my time.”

Six spins on her heel and begins to walk away. Waterson, with a scream of rage, lunges at her, and Lee, eyes wide with shock, sees everything unfold in slow motion on the small screen, his own body rising and reaching towards the action. 

Waterson skirts the table trying to get to the blond cylon as Nagala reaches for him. At the edge of the room, Lee sees the light glinting off metal as the ever-still centurions come to life. The cracking sound of gunfire reaches Lee the same instant that he sees Nagala and Waterson go down, crashing against the table and sending a vase of flowers skittering off the top and spraying against a wall. Eight screams towards the Centurions, who freeze and she rushes over to the two humans. 

Lee is vaguely aware of Kendra gripping his arm, their bodies both hovering over the monitor in disbelief. Seconds later, two Marines have their weapons drawn at the three cylons, but it is too late. 

Six stands at the side, between the centurions, her face slightly pained. Two helps Waterson off the floor, leaving a pool of blood and Nagala’s limp body on the ground. He shakes off the cylon and stares, terrified, at the Centurions. “You frakkers!” The Colonel shakes with visible fury. “Get out. Get off the station. We are done!”

The cylons slowly retreat and Lee is grateful that Waterson hasn’t engaged in a bloodbath. When the opposing door closes, the Colonel and the two Marines hover over Nagala, and Waterson looks at the camera, giving the sign for more personnel. In unison, Kendra and Lee rush out of the surveillance room and up two flights of stairs to the main negotiation hall. 

Lee arrives breathless with Kendra just as everyone else descends on the scene. Waterson barks at Lieutenant Phelps who carries the medkit, and the woman rushes to Nagala’s side. Moments later, the woman looks up at Waterson, her face stricken. Mutely, Phelps shakes her head, her fingers still resting on the neck of their leader.

Admiral Nagala is dead.

:: :: ::

Lee stands in the corridor staring blankly at the white wall in front of him, the events of hours earlier still playing in his mind. The shock has numbed over the past few hours with duty requiring him to act, to de-brief Waterson on everything he and Nagala had spoken about. Lee, long since an expert at hiding his feelings, had answered fully, shoving his near-rage at Waterson aside. He’d seen it coming, the anger, the nearly-mutinous belligerence in Waterson’s tones as he spoke to Nagala over the past few days. This outcome, though, had never even crossed his mind. Everything is now at risk. 

Long moments later, the door to Waterson’s office opens and Kendra steps out, her face tight and angry. Lee clears his throat as she turns the other way, blind to his presence. She glances back and turns, walking towards him with some relief. “I can’t even do this, Lee.” Kendra slows her steps as she walks past and Lee joins her.

“How was he?” Lee glances at her face as they walk towards the stairwell.

“Colonel Waterson’s approach is going to get us all killed. The Admiral…” She doesn’t finish, just clamps her mouth closed and Lee sees pain and outrage flicker across her face as he pushes open the door to the stairs, holding it while they pass through. His heart aches for the Admiral, but he can’t imagine how Kendra feels. He knows how much she admired her.

“And he’s just taking over, right? Questioning everything?” Lee nods as the door slams closed above them. They take two flights down and Kendra pushes into the lower deck hallway.

“The Admiral deserved a memorial service. Colonel Waterson shipped her off to the Atlantia like a supply crate.” Kendra’s voice quakes with emotion in the empty hallway. He’s never seen her upset like this and he follows closely behind.

“She’s better on the Atlantia, Kendra. That was her ship. People there loved her. She’ll be honored.” Lee follows her into the galley and watches her slamming through the cupboards. 

“I’m sorry you won’t get to be there.” He says what he can, knows it’s not enough.

Kendra ignores his words and crouches to peer into a drawer under the small refrigerator. “Ah ha!” she exclaims, reaching in and pulling out a bottle of wine. Lee blinks when she waves the bottle at him. “Get two glasses, Captain, and follow me.”

Surprised but willing, Lee finds two tumblers and catches up to Kendra as she takes the stairs up a level. She stops halfway down the corridor and pushes open a door. Lee’s surprised to see a small observation lounge with an oversized window displaying the twinkling darkness of space. 

“I studied the station plans before we arrived. If the Admiral knew about this room, she never said anything.” Kendra plops down in one of the soft chairs facing the window and begins wrestling with the wine bottle’s cork. Lee settles the glasses on the table and stares out at the stars, trying to figure the room’s orientation in space. 

“Shame we’re looking away from home. I’d rather be there.” Even with everything that happened with Kara, he’d still want to be back on Caprica. Away from the cylons, away from the ever-present fear that the work they are doing will fail and the cylons will kill them all. 

With a shudder, Lee looks away from the window and back to Kendra who is pouring wine into the glasses. She picks them up and hands one to Lee. “To Admiral Nagala, may she find peace.” 

“So say we all.” With a sad smile, Lee tips his glass against hers and drinks, feeling the sharp tang of bad and acidic wine. It burns down his throat, though, and takes his mind off of things he’d rather not think about. Lee takes another long drink and finally sits, easing back into the chair next to Kendra and spinning the glass in his hands. 

“What do you think is going to happen?” He looks out at the stars, focusing on a small cluster near the top of the window. 

“I think Colonel Waterson’s going to start a war that we’re going to lose.” Beside him, Kendra tosses back her entire glass and reaches for more. “Nagala was right. Working from inside was the right move. Waterson’s going to recommend full on military strikes and they’re going to wipe us out.” Kendra slumps back into the chair with her re-filled glass already at her lips.

“So, you don’t think Waterson will even try now? I mean with the negotiations? The cylons haven’t left the station, you know.” Lee raises his eyebrows at her. He’d checked the scanners, which were still showing the mark of a cylon vessel attached to the station. The cylons, he knew, would also be aware that a raptor had left the station shortly after the shooting.

“It’s a lost cause, Adama. Forget it.” Kendra makes disgusted face and tucks her feet under her hip. 

Lee disagrees, but lets it drop and sinks down into the cushion and puts his feet up on the table. They sit and drink for a long time before one of them speaks again.

“I keep thinking about my mom. I should be sad about Nagala or worried about how we’re frakked, but I just keep seeing my mom dying. She couldn’t fight the cancer, Lee. I know she tried. Maybe I should have been there for her.” She finishes off another glass and re-fills again, easing her legs back onto the floor.

“How long ago did she die?” Lee asks. He has no idea what to say. 

“About ten months ago. I’d only been with the Admiral for a little more than a year. And now she’s dead, too.” 

Lee looks at her over his glass and sees tears spiking her lashes. With a knot in his own throat, he reaches out and squeezes her hand. “I’m sorry about your mother. And Nagala. They were both amazing women.” 

Kendra closes her eyes and squeezes his hand tightly. He watches her face, sees the struggle for composure and how she can’t keep the tears from coming. Kendra lets go of his hand and angrily swipes at her eyes. “Sorry.” 

She sniffs and Lee leans forward, speaking in low tones. “Hey, we’re talking about your mother. She died, Kendra. Now the Admiral. You’re not made of stone, you know. It’s hard.” 

Kendra blinks at him, allowing more tears to run down her cheeks. “Why is this happening?” Her voice is helpless, like a child, and Lee drops his drink onto table and leans forward, pulling her into an awkward hug. 

“I don’t know,” is all he can think of to say. 

He feels her shoulders shake gently, and then she moves, tilting her head back and putting a hand on his shoulder. In the next moment, she kisses him, lips wet with tears and he freezes, his body stiffening in surprise. If she notices, he can’t tell because she slides her hand to his neck and flicks her tongue against his lips. His mouth opens and his hand finds her hair, the stiff shoulder of her uniform jacket, and he pulls her closer, kissing her with equal force. He doesn’t want to think about any of this anymore. 

Kendra surprises him with her fervor, shedding her reserves and her clothes as they kiss and explore. Flickering thoughts of Kara threaten to pull him back, but he doesn’t, can’t. He has to move on. 

With renewed energy, Lee leaves the past behind and lets go, meeting Kendra in her passion as he pulls her naked onto his bare lap. She straddles him, finely toned muscles moving her body against him, every touch and smell new and strange. Even as his orgasm crests, it’s not Kendra that he’s thinking about, not the dark-eyed beauty who needs him right now. It’s Kara, her blond hair in his face, the throaty groans that undo him every single time, her solidness against him, everything that Kendra is not. With a gasp, he comes, mind awash in a fantasy of someone else and then he comes crashing down, guilt and confusion winding their way into his conscious mind as Kendra collapses against him, breathing hard. 

He does what he needs to do, caressing her back but not really present. It’s grief, he thinks. The wine and the hopeless they feel. They both needed it. 

But when she climbs off him, none of the reasons make much sense anymore and the wine is churning in his gut, making him queasy.

Lee averts his eyes and pulls up his pants, tucking in his tanks before he zips and reaches for his jacket. Kendra’s almost dressed before he’s done and she’s not looking at him either. 

“You’re with someone, aren’t you?” Kendra doesn’t accuse, just says it and lets it hang between them.

“No. We broke up…” He doesn’t feel like it’s exactly true anymore. He just left.

“But you still love her.” Kendra finally looks up as she pulls her hair back into a ponytail again. He sees hurt in her eyes.

Lee shakes his head as if he can force it not to be true. “Yeah. I do.”

:: :: ::

Lee hasn’t seen Kendra for the better part of a day as he continues his slow reading of Graystone’s files. He’s been told in no uncertain terms, that his work is a low priority, but that Rear Admiral Cain will want a full briefing when she arrives with Pegasus. 

When Lee finally finds Kendra, she’s skirting the perimeter of the lab to find Waterson at the whiteboard. He watches the two of them talk from behind his monitor, noting the strain in Kendra’s face, Waterson’s easy anger as he dismisses her and she leaves the lab again. 

This time, Lee follows her, unwilling to let what happened between them go undiscussed. “Kendra, hold up.” Lee jogs after her, but she doesn’t slow down.

“Captain Adama,” she says tightly, avoiding his gaze.

“Hey, look, I’m on your side. Waterson’s going to frak us all if we don’t stay together.” Lee surges in front of her, nearly walking backward to get her attention.

“We tried togetherness, Captain.” She shoves past Lee and takes the next corridor to Nagala’s old office.

Lee reaches out and grabs her arm. “Hey, wait. Can we talk about this?”

She shrugs off his hand but stops, turning towards him with a fierce expression. “And say what, Captain? It happened, it’s over. Let it go. I certainly have.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

“Hey, look, I was there, you know. I don’t regret it, but I don’t like that you won’t talk to me now.” He shifts on his feet, trying to capture her gaze as she stares through him. He does regret what he did, but not because of Kendra.

Kendra’s face screws up for a moment and then she heaves a sigh, shaking her head. “Too much wine, Lee. You should have told me you had a girlfriend. It was stupid.” She’s angry, but at least she’s talking to him.

“I don’t. I mean, I did, but not anymore. Look, Kendra. We’ve got to stick together. If I hurt you, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He means every word and her forgiveness is more important than he realized. 

Kendra clamps her lips together, body stiff as she considers his words. 

“Come on,” he cajoles, nudging her with his elbow. She’s so tough that he has no idea how to get through to her. “Look, no more wine, just Graystone and maybe some noodles. You and I are the only ones that believe that we can work with the cylons to stop the attacks. I can’t do it alone. For Admiral Nagala, Kendra. Do it for her. I’ll just be the jerk you work with.” His tone lilts at the end, teasing her and he smiles when her face cracks a little.

“You _are_ a jerk, Adama,” Kendra teases back with a pout.

Lee laughs and pulls her back towards the lab. “Come on, let’s get going on _our_ report for Admiral Cain. Maybe she’ll see reason.” 

:: :: ::

Lee’s fingers clack on the keyboard as he puts the finishing touches on his report for Admiral Cain. He’s outlined the Graystone findings and has compiled a list of possible ways the cylon network, or datastream, could be infiltrated. Across the room, he sees Waterson’s aides begin scrambling as the Colonel hangs up the comm.

“What’s going on?” Lee asks Kendra, who’s approaching from the fray.

“Pegasus has arrived and the Admiral is refusing to board Armistice Station. Waterson is getting everything copied and ready to go to a briefing on Pegasus instead.”

“And I assume we are not invited?” Lee shakes his head, throwing a dark look towards Waterson as he barks commands at the support staff. 

“How are you coming with edits? Are we ready?” Kendra leans over him, staring at his screen.

“Yeah. Let me print it and give you a digital copy. I was really hoping we’d get to talk to her in person.” Lee inserts a drive into the computer and starts the copy before he stands and walks to the printer. 

Kendra follows, her tone low. “Don’t get your hopes up, Lee,” she warns. “Now that we know Cain found a cylon on her ship, apparently screwing with the CNP, I bet she’s out for blood.” 

Lee feels his heart sink. He knows almost nothing about Admiral Cain. “But if she reads it, maybe we can convince her to work on both fronts at the same time?” 

Kendra shrugs. “I don’t know. We can try.” She scoops up the printed pages and pulls a report sleeve out of a drawer nearby. She clips the pages into the dark blue folder as Lee retrieves the drive and she attaches it into the digital media pocket. “This is the best shot we have. It’s out of our hands.”

Lee takes the report and walks towards Colonel Waterson, extending his hand as he does. “Sir. I have the report on the Graystone data. There continues to be evidence that indicates infiltrating the cylon’s network is possible if we can get access.” He holds his head high, irritated as Waterson simply glances at him and continues to read. “Leave it, Captain. Dismissed.”

With his mouth a sharp line, drops the report on the table and snaps a salute before stepping away. By the time he reaches Kendra, he’s muttering a stream of expletives under his breath.

“Ease up, Lee. Don’t get yourself court-martialed.” Kendra raises her eyebrows at him.

“I know we’re onto something, Kendra. I can’t believe Waterson has frakked things up so badly.” Lee thinks back to Nagala’s death and the Six’s abandonment of the talks. One niggling question remains yet to be answered: why haven’t the cylons left? Neither of them has an answer.

Half an hour later, Waterson approaches as Lee is working on a translation. With a glance up, Lee stands, his hands at his side at attention. “Sir.”

“We are about to disembark for Pegasus, you’re in command.” Waterson slides a drive across the table towards him. “The command codes, Captain. Don’t expect to use them. You’re just babysitting the station until I return.” 

“Yes, sir,” Lee says automatically, keeping the shock out of his voice. He never even thought about what would happen when Waterson went to Pegasus. 

“What about Galactica and Solaria, sir?” Lee had never expected to be in command, however briefly.

“They are in orbit, Captain. Admiral Cain will decide what is to happen next. Stand by for orders via courier. Do not trust comm channels. We can’t assure that our communications haven’t been breached by the cylons.”

“Sir,” Lee nods and salutes as Waterson walks away, files tucked under his arm and trailed by the two lieutenants and a Marine guard. A moment later he is gone and Lee sits heavily back in his seat. 

He has the con.

:: :: ::

“Kendra, come with me,” Lee motions to the woman leaning against the galley counter eating protein bar. 

“Come where, Lee? I haven’t eaten in forever.” She peels the foil off the bar and scrunches it in her fist. 

“You’ll see. Come on.” He heads out the door, adrenaline in his blood. All of his training tells him that what he’s about to do is incredibly stupid.

“Okay, one sec.” Kendra grabs her water bottle and follows him, wolfing down the last of her meal.

A few minutes later she stops. “What are you doing, Captain?” They’re half a corridor away from the main negotiating space where Nagala was killed.

“We have to do something, Kendra. The cylons are still here for a reason and I want to know why.”

Kendra takes two steps back. “Are you crazy, Lee? We’ll be court-martialed.”

“I’m the commanding officer, Kendra. No one has given me an order that I cannot engage with the cylon delegation.” Even as he says the words, Lee’s not sure he believes them. He swallows hard against the fear gathering at the base of his throat.

“I don’t know, Lee.” She eyes the double doors, wariness evident, and then swings her eyes back to Lee. He watches her face as she decides and then steps forward. “Now you can confirm that you are actually a jerk, Lee.”

He lets out a nervous laugh and lays his palm on the scanner. It recognizes him, the doors slide open and Lee and Kendra step into the stale air of the oblong room, both glancing at the opposing doors.

“Smaller than I thought it would be,” Lee says, glancing at the sparse furnishings, much brighter and polished than the small vidscreen portrayed. The flowers have been removed and there is no sign of the carnage that occurred a few days earlier. With a deep breath, Lee sits and invites Kendra to do the same. 

After fifteen minutes, Lee starts to become uncertain. “Think they’ll show?” Part of him hopes that they don’t. He’s a stranger to them, as is Kendra, and they are totally winging it.

“We’ll have to wait and see.” She’s sitting still, fingers clasped lightly on her lap. Lee takes in her posture and does the same. _He can do this._

Lee doodles on his notepad, eyes growing slightly heavy as minutes crawl into nearly an hour of waiting. 

When the doors opposite them begin to open, Lee’s body jolts into attention, his pen flying off the table and onto the floor. He quickly retrieves it, his eyes glued to the widening opening. His ears are tuned for the metal clang of Centurions marching, but the sound never comes. Instead, a blond woman appears, a Six he realizes, although she looks so different from the first one. Her hair, darker than the white blonde of the other Six, is worked into loose braids that leave wisps of hair around her face. She’s dressed casually in jeans and a black t-shirt, her face even more beautiful without the makeup of the Six copy he’d seen so many times on video. Lee’s eyes take in all of her, so human that he can barely breathe.

Lee and Kendra stand immediately as the cylon approaches, her face breaking into an easy smile. As she reaches the table, she extends her hand to them. “Captains, hello. I am Charlotte.” Up close, her eyes blue and kind and Lee swallows down his fear.

Lee leans forward first, clasping the woman’s fingers and giving a firm shake. Her skin is warm and nothing like what he’d expect from a machine. “I’m Captain Lee Adama. Nice to meet you.” The cylon smiles wider, nodding in greeting and releases his fingers to shake Kendra’s hand as she also introduces herself. Lee watches her easy grace, the slight forward curl of her shoulders as greets them, the almost-shy expression on her face. So different from her sister that it shocks Lee to realize that they are not actually the same. 

The three stand awkwardly for a moment, Lee’s mind flooded, until Kendra speaks. “Why don’t we all sit.” The three of them sit in unison, Charlotte folding herself easily into the chair. For a moment she gets a flash of her with legs tucked into her chair, nestled up with a book or a magazine, living among humans and blending in so perfectly that he can barely comprehend what it means. _They are so much like us!_

Charlotte clears her throat and speaks, jolting Lee’s thoughts back to the present and the shockingly familiar accented Tauron of her speech. His eyes skim down her body again to see a black tattoo peeking out under the sleeve of her shirt. He blinks and takes a long slow breath – she’s been living as a Tauron. His so stunned that he barely hears her words.

“We are very happy that you have returned to the negotiating table. My brothers and sisters did not believe it possible.”

Lee forces himself to focus, remember his purpose. “The events of two days ago are unfortunate. We are eager to begin again.” 

The cylon nods, smile flattening out into concern. “As are we. And as I am new to these negotiations, let me begin by talking to you about our rebellion against Brother Cavil and our need for an alliance with the humans. My sisters Six and Eight and brother Two have reported difficulty interacting with your predecessors, despite having a basic understanding of humanity. Sadly, they have not lived among humans, and even though they now share my memories, it takes time to fully comprehend what I have experienced living with humans for two years.”

“You share memories?” Lee asks, feeling like his mind can barely keep up with everything he’s learning.

Charlotte nods, lips pursed. “Yes, Captain, we do. As you know, the datastream keeps us connected, but not just with information about things or places or equipment. We can, at any moment, access the memories of a million of our brothers and sisters.” The Eight had explained some of their cylon technology to Waterson during the last meeting.

Lee gapes. “A million?”

Charlotte smiles patiently. “Yes. Millions.” She leans forward and continues, “The cylons have had forty years to create an army for a singular purpose. My brothers and sisters, millions of them, are part of an army whose one goal is to serve the One True God. He has a plan for God’s children.”

Lee’s bowels churn at the nearly incomprehensible size. This war, it seems, is about more than revenge. It is jihad. He glances at Kendra, seeing her face rapt.

Charlotte eases back in her chair and glances at Kendra. “I can see that this information surprises you.” 

Lee feels like his mouth doesn’t work. Kendra speaks instead and he admires her poise. “An army of religious zealots is difficult to defeat. And we don’t believe in your One True God.” Her tone is matter-of-fact, but Lee feels anxious about the words. _Millions!_ his mind chants over and over again.

“Yes, but I would say _impossible to defeat_ , Captain. My sister, Six, chose not to reveal the size of our force, expecting instead that you would take her word for it. I know that is not possible. Humans are untrusting by nature. This is very different from cylons who have only ever been surrounded by trustworthy brothers and sisters. The idea does not come easily.”

Lee nods, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place, revealing why the Six became so frustrated during the negotiations. “This information helps a lot, Charlotte. Thank you.” 

The cylon seems pleased by Lee’s words and bites her lower lip. It’s an utterly charming gesture and Lee finds himself staring.

Charlotte continues, “I want to help you. I have spent the last four months building an alliance with my other Six sisters and the Eights and the Twos. I have had to do this all without alarming my other brothers and sisters, the ones who are loyal to Cavil. With the exception of those at the Hub and the Colony, whom I cannot reach, the rest of us want the humans to survive.”

Lee blurts out the next question, amazed by her honesty. “Why? Why save us?”

A slow smile spreads over Charlottes face, lighting her features, making her appear even more enchanting. 

“Love.”

:: :: ::

Lee’s mind is spinning by the time he and Kendra return to the lab, neither speaking as they try to comprehend the information that Charlotte has given them. They’d cut the meeting short, aware of the timing and the planned return of Colonel Waterson. Lee had given Charlotte his assurances that he would carry her message to the other humans on Armistice Station, but it is a promise, Lee realizes as he hears Waterson’s voice in the hallway, that he is not sure he can keep.

The Colonel comes storming in, flanked by aides and barking orders. He calls them over, addressing them before they reach him. “Admiral Cain has ordered an immediate attack on the one cylon location in sector XP-33. Pegasus will depart at 1400 hours and engage the enemy. We are to provide her with whatever tactical support she requires until that time.” 

“An attack?” Lee asks, mouth open in surprise. 

“Yes, Captain. At least Admiral Cain had the common sense to consult Command. They support her decision and so do I.” His voice is filled with smug satisfaction. “We are going to take the cylons by surprise.”

“Is it possible I could speak to her, sir?” He is sure that Waterson didn’t do anything to promote the idea of a peaceful resolution. 

“Everything goes through me, Captain. What is it?” He gives Lee a baleful look and waits.

“The cylons, sir, they sent a new envoy for negotiations.” Instinct tells him that this will not end well.

“What do you mean?” Waterson freezes and stares at Lee.

“A new cylon appeared in the negotiation room and Captain Shaw and I greeted her, sir.” Lee is careful to be honest but to also withhold his role in starting the talks.

“You met with the cylons?” Waterson’s face becomes mottled with rage. “How dare you take that upon yourself, Captain. Both of you.” He fires a glare at Kendra and takes a deep breath before clenching his fists at his sides. “You are both confined to quarters. Immediately.”

“Sir,” Lee begins, desperate to relay Charlotte’s message. “She gave us information, sir. More than we had before.”

Waterson barks at him with barely controlled anger. “Enough, Captain. You are dismissed.” He turns away, barking more orders at his two Lieutenants. Lee stares at his CO and opens his mouth to argue more. He has to hear what she said. 

“Sir—” Lee begins and then feels Kendra tugging at him. “Leave it, Lee. Come on.” With a grimace, he looks at her and she pulls harder. “He won’t hear you.”

Lee’s shoulders drop and he backs away, returning to retrieve a few notebooks and the leather Graystone journals before leaves the lab with Kendra. They take the steps down without further comment. Lee stops at his quarters while Kendra continues towards her door down the hall. She stops only when Lee calls out to her. “I’m sorry, Kendra.” 

Kendra turns her head towards him, giving a rueful smile. “In it together, right?” 

Lee snorts a laugh and palms the door handle. “Seems that way.” He’s so grateful for her friendship right now. His door clicks open and he glances over to her one more time. “Thanks.”

She simply nods and goes into her quarters. Lee does the same and closes the door behind him, cut off and helpless until he’s called back to duty.

:: :: ::

Nearly sixteen hours later, Lee has slept and read and showered twice. His nerves have spiked and he’s checked his watch so many times he’s ready to smash it. 

Lee paces the room, taking the five steps between the head and the hatch a thousand times. Pegasus has been gone for more than twelve hours and as the minutes tick by, his dread grows, thinning out his breathing and sending his heart into bursts of panic as he envisions the devastation he believes a _million_ cylons can wreak. 

His stomach churns when he thinks about it, _about her_ , how he abandoned her, didn’t make sure she was safe, just ran off because of his wounded pride. He loved her and hadn’t even let her explain. 

_”Lee, it was a long time ago,” she said, moving towards him, hand outstretched._

_But he couldn’t look at her. “Get away from me, Kara. Get the frak out. We’re done!” He shouted at her, voice deep and sharp with rage, feeling satisfied at the surprised look on her face._

_”Fine, Lee. Frak you,” she snarled, face contorted with anger and pain. She slammed the door so hard it vibrated the floor under his bare feet._

The memory whips through him and he slumps down on the bed, face hot with shame. Clutching his hands together, he begs for her forgiveness, for her life, wishing he believed in the gods, wishing that prayers could saver her, but he knows they can’t and the words won’t come out of his mouth. 

All he can do is hope that she listened to his warning. For as much of a bastard he had been to her, he’d warned her to leave. Needed her to be safe. 

“Please,” he pleads to the room. “Let her be okay.”

At that instant, a knocking on his door startles him and he rises and yanks it open, his jaw dropping in surprise.

“Dad!”

:: :: ::

Minutes later, Kendra and Lee are back in the lab meeting with his father who has assumed command of Armistice Station. 

“Colonel Waterson’s been relieved. He gave a false account of the events leading to Nagala’s death in an effort to absolve himself of blame.” 

“But he wasn’t to blame,” Lee interjects. “It was a situation that got out of hand.” He’s still finding it hard to believe that his father is here. 

“We know that now, but he still gave a false statement to appeal to Admiral Cain’s hawkish stance. And as a result, Pegasus was destroyed along with all her vipers and crew. A single raptor managed to escape with its pilot and ECO and they said it was like roaches pouring out of the basestar.” Bill’s face screws up in disgust and fear. “Now the cylons know we’re onto them and our element of surprise is gone.” 

“They have millions of ships and personnel, sir…copies. We don’t stand a chance,” Lee gapes, unable to believe the turn of events. Everything they had hoped to prevent was now occurring.  
_Oh, gods, Kara. It’s too late!_

Lee tries to prepare himself for what’s to come. Everyone and everything that will die. He searches his father’s face – _what about Zak?_ and the air suddenly can’t get into his lungs and the room begins to go fuzzy around the edges. He feels a strong hand on his arm. 

“Lee. Have to keep moving, Son.” Lee closes his eyes, focuses on his father’s voice, and takes a steadying breath. 

“We tried to tell him, sir. About Charlotte,” Kendra says, and Lee’s grateful to have his father’s attention diverted.

Bill blinks at her. “Charlotte?” 

Kendra explains, “The new cylon envoy. She arrived at Armistice after the Colonel left for Pegasus.”

:: :: ::

“They did what?” Charlotte’s covers her mouth with a delicate hand as Lee explains the recent attack by Pegasus on a cylon outpost. “Oh, God, that ruins everything. Cavil will accelerate his plans and convincing the Threes and Fives will be impossible. You’ve played right into One’s hands.” 

Charlotte stands, wringing her hands, and taking awkward steps around the room. The only other cylon in the room, a Two, stands to comfort Charlotte. The pair huddles together, whispering words that Lee cannot hear. After a few moments, Charlotte regains her composure and sits down again. Two lingers near the door, his face concerned but calm.

Charlotte leans towards them, hands planted on the table. “It is more urgent than ever that we find a way to influence the Threes, Fours and Fives. Cavil will never be swayed, but if even one other model joins us, we will have a majority to box him and make peace with the humans. This has to happen.” Her tone is sharp at the end, teeth bared in desperate emotion.

“Box?” Lee asks. 

“Boxing is our way of shutting down an entire line. Their consciousness is taken offline and put into stasis. It’s the last resort when a line no longer contributes to the cylon population.”

Lee nods, although he doesn’t fully understand. “We’ll do everything we can,” Lee assures her and glances at his father who has remained silent for most of the meeting. He has agreed to keep an open mind, but Lee is worried; finding out only days earlier that one of his own pilots was a cylon has hit his father hard and he expressly forbade an Eight from entering with Charlotte. Even now, Lee is wary of his actions, worrying that his father, a cylon-hater his entire life, would be unable to make an alliance. 

A chime interrupts the meeting and Lee glances towards the source of the sound. His eyes go wide as he watches his father move across the room and pick up the receiver. The intercom is used only for the most dire of emergencies and Lee feels his stomach drop, instinct telling him that it has begun. 

All eyes are trained on the Commander, even Charlotte’s whose expression is fearful.

“Thank you. Adama out.” Bill replaces the receiver and walks back to his seat and sits, adjusting his uniform jacket before speaking. His face is pale, mouth tight.

“Caprica and Gemenon have been destroyed by nuclear strikes. It appears that the cylons disabled the planetary defense system on Caprica and they never had a chance. Eight battlestars destroyed so far. The cylons are now reportedly focusing on Picon and Tauron, but those planetary defense systems are holding. The nukes can’t get through.”

Charlotte gasps, shock making her mouth drop open. “No, we have to stop them.” She grips the table, her eyes wide with fear. “This is not how it was supposed to go. My husband, Nico. He’s still on Tauron. I told him to leave, but I know he had nowhere to go.” Charlotte begin to cry, tears rolling down her cheeks, and Lee glances at his father, terrified of what will come next. 

Lee can’t really comprehend any of the losses and his mind separates, walling off the grief he knows will come and focusing instead on keeping his father and Charlotte speaking. He knows that this is the only road to survival for the humans. They cannot possibly win against millions of cylons.

He watches the muscle in his father’s jaw and waits, unable to breathe, for his father to speak and to define all that will come to pass. _Please, Dad._

Bill’s tone is flat when he finally speaks, his voice betraying a deep weariness that tears into Lee’s soul. 

“We’re ready to follow your lead, Charlotte.”

 

**PART THREE**

The atmosphere on Armistice Station changes from one of desperate fear and helplessness to a center of cooperation and urgency. The cylons have come on board and are working with the humans to find a way to infiltrate the center of the cylon empire to change the tide of the war. Lee has been watching for the past day as officers from Galactica and several Eights, Sixes, and Twos meet and discuss strategy and tactics and share their technological know-how. 

As Lee circles the room, unable to contain his energy or worry, his mind is at the ready, listening for conflict and focusing on making this difficult task as easy as he can. He pauses as Galactica’s CAG, Major Spencer, speaks to an Eight and a Two. He’s impressed at Spencer’s calm as he talks to an exact replica of one of his pilots. 

“We’ve gotten reports from the battle that the cylon raiders can jam viper navigation systems. They wiped out hundreds of defenseless ships. How can we stop them?” 

Eight nods, her face thoughtful and then she takes a step back. “I don’t know exactly, but give me fifteen minutes and I’ll find out.” She turns and leaves the lab, heading back to a heavy raider which will take her to the basestar that now hovers over the tiny station. Lee tries not to think of the enormous ship and how it could strike them down in an instant. _Trust,_ his mind repeats.

Major Spencer’s face changes as the Eight turns away, a flash of disgust and mistrust making his body shrink. Lee wonders how the rest of the crew of the Galactica are faring now that the Eight, known as Boomer, has been transferred to Armistice. His father has barely said a word about it, but Lee knows that his crew is his family, and it must hit hard.

Glancing up at movement in the doorway, Lee sees his father coming through, eyes seeking him out. Bill’s face is stoic, but he knows him well enough to see the strain that these circumstances bring, the terrible risk he is taking on behalf of the Fleet, trusted soldiers now cylons, not to mention the unknown fates of Zak and his mother. Lee meets his father’s eyes and gives him a pinched smile, a silent understanding that they will grieve later. It’s an unexpected connection that nearly brings Lee to tears. After so much rancor, the idea that he and his father will be close brings a tide of emotions that he can’t really afford right now. 

With a deep breath, he swallows the feelings down. The battle for the Twelve Colonies rages on and this fragile alliance needs him, needs every ounce of energy he has to make it work. 

“It’s your frakking fault,” Lee hears behind him, sharp words from a man and a loud returning female voice. 

“We’re trying to help you!” 

Lee spins around. Lieutenant Nair’s face is scrunched in a rage, mouth open and shouting at a Six who angles towards him, body in a fighting stance. 

“Hey!” Lee shouts and rushes towards them. “This is the wrong frakking time for this.” He shoves at Lieutenant Nair. “You! Take a walk.” The man grumbles, shaking him off, but after a brief hesitation does what he says and Major Spencer follows. 

The Six steps back, surrounded by another and a Two who speaks to her. She shakes her head, eyes following the officer as he leaves the lab. She throws off her sister’s hands before retreating to another corner of the lab. 

His father approaches and smiles grimly. “I’m sure that won’t be the last of the arguments. Working with a cylon that looks like Boomer really fraks with their heads.” Bill’s frown deepens. “Mine, too. I’ve got a lot of grieving and confused people on board wanting to know about family on Gemenon and Caprica. Their just biding their time until we have a plan.”

“I know, Dad. I know.” Lee rakes his hands through his hair and takes a breath. His heart is racing, panicked knowing that even the smallest argument could lead to disaster. He has to keep things in line.

Lee calms and focuses back on his father’s face, amazed at how he feels like they are in it together. 

“How are things progressing with Charlotte?” Bill asks. “Any ideas how to spread the word about the alliance to the other factions?” Bill glances over his shoulder towards the cylon in question. He never asks about the Eights.

“Nothing yet. I thought Graystone’s notes would help us, but they’ve gone so far beyond that technology that it’s hard to find connections.” Lee feels like a child among adults as he talks to the cylons about their genesis. He knows so little.

Bill squeezes Lee’s shoulder and Lee blinks at him, surprised. “You’ve done well, son. It’s hard for me to admit, but it seems you did the right thing leaving flight school.” His father’s mouth settles into a reluctant smile. “I’ve read Nagala’s logs, Lee, and she commended your insight into the cylon copies. Capturing that Six in Queenstown might be the reason that Picon has managed to defend the attacks. It could have saved millions.”

Lee shakes his head against his father’s words, so surprising that they don’t even seem real. “Thank you, dad.” He can’t really say more without losing his cool, so he smiles as much as he can and motions back towards the small group of cylons at his computers. “I should get back.”

His father nods and Lee walks away, feeling a quiet tremor in his steps as he tries to take it all in. Cylons and humans working together, his father singing his praises. None of it makes sense and he’s pretty sure today is the most frakked up day in his entire life.

:: :: ::

“Lee, may I have a word, please,” Charlotte’s face appears above his computer monitor, her brow etched in worry, hair jutting out of her braids haphazardly.

“What is it?” Lee disengages himself from his meeting and leads her to the far side of the lab. “What happened Charlotte?” Her obvious distress bothers him – he’s come to like this cylon.

“A Three, Lee. One of my sisters has arrived on the basestar and wants to discuss the alliance. She is a rogue Three who calls herself D’Anna and she might be the key to changing the minds of the others, but she can be unpredictable and I fear it could be a risk to introduce her into the alliance.” Charlotte’s words come out fast, bunching up on each other until she’s finished, her fingernail clacking against her front teeth.

Lee nods, glancing around to see if his father is available, but not finding him in the lab. “Would it help if we met her in the negotiation room, just a few of us? You can lead the discussions. If it’s a break, then we should take it.”

Charlotte reluctantly nods but Lee sees her hesitation. “What is it?”

Taking a deep breath, Charlotte speaks, “Among the cylons, there is a group called the Final Five and we are forbidden to think about them or to pursue their identity. Even discussing this now causes me great distress. D’Anna believes she has seen the Final Five in a vision and knows their faces. She has devoted her life to finding them.” The words come out in a rush and Charlotte looks dazed as she speaks.

“Okay. This Final Five, where could they be?” 

“I don’t know. I can’t discuss it.” Charlotte’s face becomes pained and she shifts on her feet, glancing towards a group of her siblings across the room.

“Okay, you don’t have to. I am willing to meet her, but I should clear it with the Commander. Set it up for an hour from now and I’ll be there. And if it’s too painful, I can meet her alone.”

The blond shakes her head. “No, I’ll be there. Three can be difficult and dislikes humans very much. I want you to be safe, Lee.” She reaches out to squeeze his hand and gives a half smile. 

“Okay, then I’ll see you in an hour.” Lee smiles and watches as Charlotte turns away, taking awkward steps towards another Six. 

Lee walks the other way to search for his father. For the first time in two days, he feels hope.

:: :: ::

Lee meets alone with Charlotte and the Three that calls herself D’Anna. Two Centurions, absent for so many days, flank the doors once again, and like the first time he saw the cylons, his throat constricts with fear. D’Anna is frightening as she appraises him and clearly finds him lacking.

“And why should I trust you, Captain Adama?” The new cylon presses Lee with a challenging stare, one finely arched brow rising in question. He shifts in his seat, gripping the chair arm and struggling to speak without fear.

“Because we will help you find the Final Five – give you access to our personnel databases, government records, anything you need to find these cylons. You said they are not one of the twelve models, right?” 

D’Anna wrinkles her mouth into a doubtful moue and glances at Charlotte. “Brother Cavil has already begun his attack on the humans, what do you intend to prove?” 

Charlotte’s face remains impassive, but her tone is sharp as she addresses her sister. “God’s message is one of love, not death, but you don’t care about the plight of cylon and man. You are obsessed with your Final Five and the humans are willing to help.” 

“And what do you want from me? To convince my sisters to follow your rebellion?” D’Anna practically snorts. “They will not listen to me.”

Charlotte leans toward D’Anna and puts a hand on her arm. “You have to try again. The war will destroy the humans in a matter of weeks. If One destroys all of the humans, the Final Five living among them will be destroyed, too.”

D’Anna pointedly removes her arm from Charlotte’s grasp and looks at Lee. “It would take me years to go through your files, Captain. Your offer is useless.”

“Tell me what they look like, how old they are, any identifying marks, and we’ll narrow the searches to make it easier. We can put a team of people on the job. If they are living on the Twelve Worlds, I know we can find them.” Lee’s tone rises in desperation. This is their last hope. “Please, D’Anna.”

The Three stares at him and then glances at Charlotte once more. “Let me speak to my brothers and sisters.” She sits back in the chair, clearly unwilling to go any further.

Lee grimaces and eases out of the chair slowly, giving Charlotte a pleading look. Her face softens and she gives him a small nod. He believes she will do everything to convince D’Anna to compromise. She wants this as badly as the rest of them.

:: :: :: 

Time crawls slowly in the lab, three hours seeming like ten, as he paces between D’Anna and the lab door. Kendra, her face calm and poised, sits with the Three as she scans through Fleet personnel photos in search of one of the Final Five. _A needle in a haystack,_ Lee thinks, remembering the original Six’s words, their origin clear now that he’s met Charlotte.

He’s more than shocked when Kendra calls out to him, her voice lilting high with surprise, “Lee, come over here. I think we found something.” 

“What? Already? That’s impossible.” Lee nearly trips in his eagerness to slide behind the row of chairs at the computer stations.

When he looks at the screen at D’Anna’s station, he jerks backwards, knocking into another chair and grabbing onto a table to keep from falling. His face is a mask of horror. 

“Oh, my gods!” He rights himself. “Are you sure?” He can’t believe it. “That’s Saul Tigh!”

:: :: ::

“What the frak are you talking about? This is ridiculous.” The wizened Colonel’s graveled voice echoes in the small conference room where Lee has been meeting with him and his father.

Lee explains it for the third time. “She picked your face out of hundreds, sir. I was there and she seemed absolutely certain. D’Anna and Charlotte want to see you.” Lee tries to stay on mission, ignore the shock of the possibility that Saul Tigh, his father’s best friend, is a cylon. Lee shivers and shakes it off. 

Saul glares at Lee before turning to the Commander. “Bill, are you hearing this crap?” Saul approaches his father who sits stoically, fingers steepled in front of him. He’s not convinced either.

“I don’t know what kind of trick these cylons are playing at, but I’m an officer in this Fleet and that’s all I’ve been for more than thirty years. I am not a godsdamned cylon.” 

“Lee,” Bill interjects smoothly. “Bring D’Anna here. I want to speak to her. Saul?” Bill stands, glancing at his friend. “We need to find out what’s going on.”

Saul grumbles as Lee leaves the room and heads to the lab where Charlotte is working. The pair of them waits while a Two retrieves D’Anna from the negotiating room and he meets them in the hallway.

“He’s here?” D’Anna says, her once-confident face now anxious and amazed.

Lee pauses before leading her to the conference room where his father and Saul wait. “I’ve known him my whole life, D’Anna. But he doesn’t know he’s a cylon. He fought against the cylons in the first Cylon War and this is not going to be easy for him.”

“Once he knows who he is, he will embrace us and we him. We only want to love him.” Her voice takes on a reverent quality and Lee nods, uncertain where all of this will lead.

Lee knocks softly on the door and enters with D’Anna and Charlotte, whose faces are bright with wonder. 

“Father,” D’Anna says and Lee sees Saul visibly tremble and step backwards, shaking his head in fear. 

Bill steps forward between Saul and the two cylons. His voice is hard and doubtful. “I am Commander William Adama, commanding officer of this station. We’re going to need some proof that he is one of your Final Five.” 

D’Anna tears her eyes away from Saul. “Let me take him to our baseship. He doesn’t remember, but if he connects into the stream, everything could become clear.” Her voice holds a tremulous quality, certain yet afraid of what she’s discovered.

“No frakking way, Bill.” Saul glares at both of them, his mouth an angry frown. “There’s no way I’m setting foot on one of those thing’s ship.”

“Take it easy, Saul.” Bill waves him off and Saul moves to the opposite side of the room to glower at his father. 

Bill shakes his head at D’Anna. “I’ve known Saul Tigh for more than thirty years. He’s aged, he’s lived a lifetime as human. I need more than your word.” 

“Commander Adama, the history of the final five is unknown, but I have seen their faces. Your Saul Tigh is one of them, one of the original cylons who created our race. One trip to the basestar, that is all I am asking.” D’Anna seems careful to keep her tone conciliatory, but Lee knows that the cylons could take Saul Tigh if they wanted to.

“Dad, a word?” Lee interrupts.

“D’Anna, Charlotte, give us a moment.” The two cylons exchange glances and then leave the room, closing the door quietly behind them.

“This is bullshit, Bill,” Saul says, moving to engage his father. Desperation and fear roll off him in waves. 

“Dad, listen. I know this is crazy, but if they believe Colonel Tigh is one of the Final Five, then we have an advantage we can’t ignore. For all we know, D’Anna is crazy or wrong or maybe this is a trap. But if he is one of the revered Final Five, it could change everything. We need to cooperate.”

Saul is frozen, eyes wide as Bill thinks about Lee’s words. A few moments later, his father lets out a weary breath and gives Saul an apologetic look. “He’s right, Saul. You need to go on that basestar. Our people are dying out there.”

Pain washes over Saul’s face but he straightens his back, jutting out his chest like the soldier he is. Lee has never respected him more.

“All right, Bill. It’s your call.” 

:: :: ::

The door to his father’s quarters on Armistice is locked but Lee knows he’s inside. “Dad, come on, open up!” He pounds on the door, scanning the hallway for anyone with information. No one has seen his father since Saul Tigh returned from the baseship hours earlier, his entire posture transformed into someone Lee barely recognized. All that D’Anna had said, and more, was true.

“Dad, open the door.” Lee pounds loudly, convinced that his father will eventually answer. 

A few more minutes of beating on the door and Lee finally hears a click and twists the knob. “Dad?” His father, dressed in tanks and uniform pants, faces away from him, his shoulders hunched forward with a hand outstretched against the bulkhead to support himself. His knuckles are a bloody mess.

“Oh my gods, Dad, what happened?” Lee rushes forward and breathes in the alcohol wafting off his father’s body. He sees his face, ravaged by pain and touches his shoulder. Bill blinks at him as if he’s surprised someone is there. “Son?”

“Come on, sit down. Let me take a look at that hand.” Bill moves to the rack and sits heavily, his head down. Gingerly, Lee kneels before him, taking his bloody hand and turning it over. He’s punched something hard. 

Rising from a crouch, Lee goes into the bathroom and wets a cloth and grabs two towels. He blinks, startled at the condition of the mirror above the sink, cracked and splintered with smudges of blood and skin. He swallows and glances towards his father, still sitting, head down on the rack, his hand hanging limply off his knee. 

His father’s open travel kit is on the sink and he digs through it looking for bandages. With all of the items in hand, he goes back to kneeling in front of his father.

“Dad, what happened?” He takes the soapy cloth and wipes gingerly around the broken skin, swiping up the trails of blood that have run between his fingers.

“Saul is a cylon,” he manages to say. “Thirty years, Lee. My best friend.” His father chokes on the words.

“No one knew, Dad. Not even Saul.” Lee’s chest is tight as he presses the dry towel against his father’s knuckles and pulls it away, seeing dots of blood against the white cloth.

“I don’t understand, Lee.” Bill shakes his head and tries to pull away. 

“No, stop. Let me finish this.” Lee pushes him back with his free hand and Bill settles again, his eyes finding his son’s. It’s pain he has never seen before and a knot forms in Lee’s throat. 

“He’s going to save us, Dad. No matter what he knew or what he is, he’s going to save us. I know it.” Lee searches his father’s face to see if the Old Man can hear him. He’s lost in his own thoughts and Lee nudges him. “Are you listening to me? Saul knows everything now and he and Chief Tyrol are on their way to the Colony. Two of the Final Five, Dad. What are the odds?” 

His father shakes his head in disbelief. “Ellen.” 

Lee nods, wrapping his father’s hand with a length of gauze from the kit. “Saul is afraid that Ellen’s dead. She was on Caprica.”

“I can’t believe they were cylons the whole time…” His father’s words drift off helplessly, like a small child who doesn’t understand the workings of the world. 

“It’s going to be okay. They’re on our side. Saul and Tyrol made it very clear to D’Anna and the others that they wouldn’t stop until Cavil was boxed. They both want revenge.”

“Revenge?” His father parrots, tired eyes focusing on Lee for the first time. Lee tucks the edge of the gauze under itself at his dad’s palm and stands, his knees aching from crouching for so long. 

Glancing around the room, Lee pulls a chair over and wraps up the towels to toss them towards the bathroom floor. 

“Cavil hated the Final Five and he wiped their memories and scattered them throughout the Colonies with fake identities. Then he programmed the cylon models to be forbidden to ever inquire about them. Tyrol says he’s enslaved the cylons, sold them on a bunch of lies, and they need to change it.” Lee tries to piece together the story that Saul told them hours before in the lab. It barely makes sense.

“Saul and Ellen Tigh created the cylons, Dad. I don’t even vaguely understand how. I mean, Ellen? None of it makes sense to me, but I know Saul is out there now saving our asses. You need to be out of here, talking to the crew. No one knows what’s happening and they’re asking questions.”

Lee pulls at his father and makes him stand. “You need a shower and some food. I’ll go down to the galley. You think you can manage on your own?” 

Bill nods and looks at his son, eyes appearing clearer. “I can do it.” 

“Those bandages are going to get wet, I guess. Just toss them out and I’ll come back with a med kit and fix them up properly. I’ll be back in ten minutes, okay?” Bill nods and Lee squeezes his shoulders, then turns him towards the shower. His father steps away on his own, his gait steady.

Lee waits a moment until he hears water running and then lets his shoulders sag, feels his legs starting to tremble beneath him, and he slumps to the rack and rubs his eyes. Nothing makes sense any more.

:: :: ::

Two days later, Lee sits in the negotiating chamber with Kendra, Saul, Charlotte, and Galen Tyrol. The room is filled with his father’s voice blaring from a speaker high on the wall. He has re-joined Galactica and is making a speech which will be broadcast throughout the Twelve Colonies.

_“Forty years ago we believed that peace with the cylons was a possibility. We created Armistice Station and invited the cylons year after year to meet with us. They declined those invitations. What we did not realize, but some anticipated, was that the cylons were building an armada to use against the human race._

_“The cylons have destroyed Caprica and Gemenon, and have devastated much of Tauron and most of the Colonial Fleet. But they have stopped the attacks. Why? Because we have made peace._

_“The cylon nation is larger than we could have imagined, millions strong, and we must now share the galaxies with them. And despite what you believe about the evil nature of the cylons, it is clear to me, a veteran of the First Cylon War, that not all cylons are evil. It was one cylon, in fact, that approached Armistice Station with a very different kind of message. It is because of that cylon and her brothers and sisters that we are able to declare a real and lasting peace._

_“Many of us in the Twelve Worlds will ask ourselves how to live with our losses? How do we go on when billions are dead? It is incomprehensible. I personally ask myself these questions, too, and prepare for the grief we will all endure. It will not be easy. But endure it we must and keep moving forward._

_“The cylons will not return to the Twelve Worlds until we invite them to return as allies. And while that day might seem impossible, we have made an arrangement with the cylons to meet again, once a year to discuss our future together. We have assurances, and we believe finally, that a real alliance has now been secured._

_“So Say We All.”_

Lee scans the faces of the three cylons across from him, Saul, still stricken with grief, Charlotte, worrying about her Tauron husband, and Galen, the only one who seems calm, each listening to his father’s words. 

“Where do we go from here?” Lee asks when the speech has ended. He leans forward to make eye contact with Charlotte, the two of them now designated to speak for their respective races. Lee’s promotion to Major and his actions throughout the conflict engendered a status he hasn’t quite gotten used to.

Charlotte glances at the two other cylons. “Saul and Galen have agreed to go back to the Colony with us. The Threes, Fours, and Fives are quite shaken by Saul’s memories of Cavil’s betrayal, and we must go to them, heal the fractures and make peace with our own kind. My brothers and sisters have many questions for the Final Two.” 

“Final Three,” Saul interjects. “Ellen was found alive on a ship around Helios Gamma. She’s on her way to Armistice now.” His voice is rough with emotion. Lee knows that his father hasn’t spoken to Saul since his return.

“The Final Three,” Charlotte repeats, swallowing hard. “The Three will be allowed to do whatever they choose, return to the Colonies or not. They are free, although we would love them to stay.” 

“I’ve got a life in the Twelve Words. I’ll be back,” Saul says gruffly, standing. “Lee, I want to see Bill. Tell him I’ll be in touch.” 

Lee can only nod, unable to say that he doubts his father will speak to him. The forgiveness Bill intimated in his speech is probably very far from his mind.

Saul turns, stiff-backed and leaves through the doors that slide open as he approaches. Lee watches, heart aching for this proud man whose identity has been stripped away. 

The doors slide closed again and Galen speaks. “I’ll be staying with the cylons,” he says with a half-smile. Turns out my girlfriend is a cylon, too.” Galen shrugs, seeming nonplussed by the whole situation. “Won’t be breaking frat regs anymore.” He gives a sly smile and stands, extending his hand to Lee.

“Thank your father for me, Lee. I understand that he could have executed me or anything he wanted. I’m glad he didn’t.” Galen also shakes Kendra’s hand and with a nod to Charlotte, he retreats.

Kendra speaks next, her eyes finding Lee’s. “I’m going to pack up and head to the shuttle for Galactica. I’ll see you there?” Lee nods and Kendra stands to extend her hand to Charlotte who gets onto her feet and reaches out to touch their palms.

“Thank you, Kendra. I hope we’ll meet again.” Kendra simply nods, touches Lee’s shoulder, and departs through the Colonial entrance, leaving Charlotte and Lee alone.

Charlotte smiles softly and they are both quiet for a while as the weight and relief settle between them. In the course of a few weeks, everyone’s lives have changed and a new future is about to begin. Charlotte, he understands, has her own new future to build.

“Do you think he survived?” she asks, raising her wide eyes to his.

“I promised to search for him, Charlotte. It will be chaos on Tauron, but I will find him.” Lee taps his breast pocket containing Nico’s information and a private letter from Charlotte. “And I’ll tell him what you did for us.”

Charlotte bites her lip. “What if he can’t forgive me? I thought I made peace with it, but…” Her voice trails off, tears glinting in her eyes. “What if he’s dead? If I was too late?”

Lee frowns, his own losses coming dangerously close. “I’ll find him. Don’t lose hope, Charlotte. Not yet.” He reaches out and squeezes her hand. 

“You, too, Lee. The people you love, maybe they are still alive?” Her words shoot straight into his heart and he leans back, swallowing, his jaw clenched as he fights for control. He knows they are gone and he just shakes his head, avoiding her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Lee.” Her voice wavers and he breathes through the pain. _A few more minutes._

Tears sting his eyes anyway and he pushes back his chair, sniffing sharply. “I should go. The shuttle back to Galactica leaves soon.” Finally, Lee raises his eyes and finds Charlotte’s face wet with tears, soft, empathetic eyes threatening to undo him. She nods sadly and steps away from the table to extend her hand.

Lee grasps her fingers, allowing her to pull him into a light hug. “Find peace, Lee Adama.”

Lee breaks away, smiling warmly. “So say we all.”

:: :: ::

“Think you’ll see her again?” Kendra asks Lee as they settle into their seats to be transported to Galactica.

“In six months, I imagine. The Commander says it’s likely that I’ll be returning to Armistice for the next meeting. I can’t imagine Charlotte won’t be there.” 

Lee watches as the ship undocks from Armistice Station and its spindled shape grows smaller and smaller. The basestar soon comes into view above the station, looming like a wayward star in the galaxy. Saul Tigh is there, he knows, waiting for his wife to return to him. He can’t imagine how he is feeling. 

“How about you, Kendra? I bet you’ll get a thousand offers now.” He winks at her, referring to the slew of offers she’d already turned down before her posting with Nagala. 

“Well, at least this time there won’t be any questions about earning the position,” she smiles sadly and he knows she’s thinking about her mom. 

They sit in silence for a while, Lee’s earlier grief turning into a dull numbness as the prospect of returning home settles inside him. The size of the devastation, two ruined planets, is too hard to imagine, so like so many others, his thoughts wander to his own personal losses, his mom, Zak…Kara. 

“Think you’ll find her?” Kendra asks, practically reading his mind. She knows a little about what happened between the two of them. 

Lee looks out the window again, staring back towards Armistice and the basestar, now just dots blending twinkling vastness of space.

“Maybe she listened to you, left the planet.” Kendra’s voice offers a note of hope. He wants to grab onto it, but he knows the pain will be worse if he believes and then finds that she is gone.

“My brother Zak couldn’t have made it off Caprica, or my mom either. I should have warned them.” He remembers his rush to get off world, put his heartbreak behind him, leaving everyone and everything to their own fate. He winces at his selfishness.

“We saved a lot of people, Lee.” 

He wants the words to mean something, but they don’t, not right now and he just shrugs and turns his body away from her, needing space. He’s too tired to fight the weariness anymore and he closes his eyes to rest.

:: :: ::

Galactica’s hangar bay is abuzz with activity, men and women hustling, barking orders and staring at him with suspicion or wonder or something in between. His role in the negotiations is apparently well-known, as is the fact that he is the Commander’s son, a fact he realizes from the whispers as he walks by. 

With his head held high, he follows Ensign Carver through the tight gray corridors of the ship, declining to see his father and requesting to be escorted to his quarters instead. Kendra follows closely behind, both silent since their brief conversation on the transport.

“Your quarters, sir.” The dark-haired ensign gestures and opens a hatch before standing back to salute. 

Lee returns the gesture and finds Kendra’s eyes. “I’ll see you later, okay? Maybe we can get dinner in the mess. I don’t know what my father has planned.” He tries for a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s too tired.

“I’ll see you eventually,” she quips. “We could both use some rest.” She gives her own tired smile and nods to the ensign who leads her down the corridor and out of sight. 

Lee steps into the oblong quarters and spins the hatch wheel, grateful to be near a rack. Every muscle in his body feels spent, weak and worn like the inside of his brain, almost too tired to think or feel anything except a numb sort of grief that he can’t really describe. It’s thick, like water, holding him under until he sinks onto his rack, stripped down to his shorts and finally closes his eyes. 

It’s only then that the cresting tide of it crashes down, knocking him over with the force of what he has heard and seen and the losses he cannot count. Blond hair and a wide grin, a face streaked with tears, a body that moves against his as if it was always meant to be. Zak’s laughter and easy smile, his mother’s infuriating questions, each and every one he’d answer gratefully if she were here right now. Their faces flicker in his mind, staccato and sharp, each one stabbing through him until they blur under an onslaught of tears and choking sobs.

Gone. They are all gone.

:: :: ::

Lee’s mouth is sticky and gross when he wakes and he rubs at his face, sitting before he walks to a canteen of water he’d brought from the transport. He checks his watch, groaning to see that he’d slept a whole twenty-five minutes. His head feels heavy and he rubs at the ache in back of his skull as he drinks. 

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he surveys the room, better appointed, he guesses, than the crew quarters on the other decks. The walls are the same, reinforced steel painted in a flat gray with fluorescent lights that make everything over-bright. But the rack is larger than standard issue along with a built in desk and double locker for a visiting dignitary’s belongings. On a shelf below the intercom, he also sees a decanter of brown liquor and a small refrigerator. He opens it, relieved to see cold rations. 

Plucking a sandwich pack from the cooler, he pours whiskey into a glass etched with Galactica’s seal and settles back onto his rack, feeling his mind beginning to clear. He finishes the sandwich and downs half of the drink, the food and alcohol doing quick work on his tiredness. He reaches for his tanks and slides them over his head. He doubts he’ll go back to sleep now.

Retrieving his pack from against the hatch where he left it, he digs inside, pulling out the journals that lay on top, and dropping them onto the desk. His toiletries come next and then his clothes all of which he piles onto the rack to be sorted. He can’t even remember the last time he had a chance to have them cleaned. With his hand around a ball of socks he freezes, realizing that these are actually the only clothes he has left. 

With a hard swallow, he lays the socks onto the pile, his hand frozen. How can this be everything? He shakes his head, another loss that he hadn’t even thought of. Everything he’d ever owned radiated or blown to bits by an explosion. His car, his bike, everything in his apartment; it’s too overwhelming to even comprehend. He should have brought things with him. He knew the cylons—

His thoughts are interrupted by someone jerking at the hatch and pounding like Hades. He jumps, startled, and reaches for his uniform pants. His father wants him already.

He unlatches the lock and spins the wheel, expecting an ensign has come to fetch him. When he pulls the door open, he freezes, blinking, unable to understand what he’s seeing.

“Kara?” He’s moving in slow motion as she steps into the hatchway, her face ablaze with a smile. It’s so unexpected that he almost doesn’t believe it’s real. 

“Hi, Lee.” Her voice breaks him loose and he rushes at her, wrapping her into his arms, burying his face in her neck. 

“Oh, my gods, Kara. I thought you were dead.” But his nose is filled with her, tylium and sweat and the plastic smell of being trapped in a flightsuit for hours. “I missed you.” His voice cracks, tears falling unchecked down his face and onto her skin.

“It’s okay. Me, too. Me, too.” She holds him tightly, her words spoken near his ear. “I’m okay, Lee.”

He lifts his head, and looks at her, wide hazel eyes, a smudge of dirt on her cheek, the same beautiful woman from a month ago, before he screwed everything up. “Kara, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.” His confession sparks more tears and hugs her tighter, unable to control his emotions. That she is still alive is more than he wanted let himself hope. 

“Hey,” she says, pulling back against the pressure of his arms. “I’m here. You’re here. The rest of it doesn’t matter.” She touches her forehead to his and he takes a deep breath, trying to calm his shattered emotions. 

Swiping at his eyes, he finally looks at her and eases his grip, allowing her to move back, one hand still holding onto her waist. “Before the attacks, I thought maybe you’d gone somewhere safe, but when they said that Caprica and Gemenon were destroyed, I…” He can’t finish his words and he just smiles at her instead. “But you’re here.” Lee looks around his quarters. “On my father’s ship. What are you doing on Galactica?” Lee sniffs and wipes his nose. He can’t really understand any of this. 

Kara wipes at her own eyes and laughs with the deep throated chuckle that he’s missed so much. “You told me to go somewhere safe, Lee. Garvey had been on my tail to take a Battlestar posting for almost a year, so when I approached him, he told me to pick anyone I wanted. I knew if I was with your father, I’d be able to find you.”

“Find me?” Lee asks. He doesn’t follow what she means, not after how they ended. 

“Everything that went down between us – I was furious for a couple of days, and by the time I tried to find you, you’d transferred already and no one would tell me where. I finally got Lieutenant Gaeta in your lab to tell me what happened before you left. I put two and two together and figured it had something to do with the cylons, so I got the hell off Caprica.” 

“What about Zak, do you know anything?” Lee feels his emotions rising again and he takes another gulping breath.

“He’s on Aerilon, Lee. I sent him and his whole class to a specialized flight training center. It was that or pull him from flight school. Your dad knows.”

Lee breathes in relief, “Zak’s alive. Oh, gods. Thank you, Kara.” He manages to hold himself back from hugging her again, although his hand tightens on her hip. She’s so amazingly alive and right in front of him. 

He reaches out to tuck a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “I missed you.” 

This time it’s Kara who embraces him, sliding her hands up his arms to meet behind his neck and pull him in for a kiss. “I missed you, too.”

 

**EPILOGUE**

Colonel Lee Adama carries his leather satchel through the sliding double doors of the negotiation room on Armistice Station and takes his familiar place at the round table in the center of the space. The air is crisp and cool, with a recently upgraded air filtration system that Lee’d ordered on his last visit a year ago. The walls, too, are freshly painted and the furniture replaced, something he does every couple of years to keep the place updated and modern. It’s a small expense to show the respect this important place deserves.

He lifts the heavy bag onto the table and pulls it open, the tight leather-covered jaws opening with a snap. He slides his hand over the leather, a gift from Kara two years prior for Solstice. From the bag, he pulls the first of the items, a brown wooden framed photograph of Kara, Wills, and Laney, taken at Kara’s birthday party three years prior, just before Wills started college. It’s his favorite photo and Kara had teased him about lugging it all the way to Armistice for a one-day meeting. He’d shrugged and packed it anyway. Looking at his family in the deepest reaches of space makes him cherish them all the more.

Lee also drags out a stack of papers, a data drive, and a carefully packaged box of seeds, all of which he sets aside before dropping the lighter pack onto the floor next to his chair. He checks his watch and waits; he’s early. 

Like so many years before, Lee takes his time preparing for the meeting, remembering the events of the Second Cylon War and how he’d managed to create peace where none might have existed. He was luckier than many, he had long since realized, to have people he loved survive while so many died.

His guilt, gone for the most part, resurfaces in the few days before and after his journey to Armistice, lending to a quietness that even Kara respects, long since used to his melancholy about things long past. He sets the time aside as the one time every year he faces their former enemies and grieves again for the lives they couldn’t save.

When the doors slide open a few minutes later, he stands, a calm smile spreading across his face to see the ever-beautiful Charlotte enter, her hair longer than it had been before, but still braided loosely around her face. Her face is tan, the sun having created a blush that accentuates her high cheekbones, and despite his sadness on this day, she always brightens his mood. She, more than anyone else, made his life possible.

“Charlotte, it’s so good to see you,” he says affectionately and reaches out to give her their customary hug.

“Hi, Lee. How have you been?” Lee still hears the mild twang of her Tauron accent, now fainter more than two decades after she’d lived there. 

“I’m well.” He motions to the table and takes his seat again. “How’s Nico?” he asks, inquiring about her human husband, by her side since Lee had found him nearly eight months after the war. It’s one of the better memories of that dark time and he enjoys hearing about their life together.

Charlotte’s face brightens, as he expects, and she gives him a toothy grin. “Nico’s wonderful, Lee. We’ve made such progress on the farm land – he says he’s never been happier.” The pair, along with Ellen and Saul Tigh and most of the Final Five, had found a planet to settle and were slowly tilling the land to create a permanent cylon world. 

Charlotte notices a green package on the table and clasps her hands in front of her. “Are those the seeds?” She’s nearly bouncing in her chair with excitement and Lee chuckles, swept up by her enthusiasm.

He slides the box across the table. “Yes, all that you asked for plus a few from Caprica that you might have never tried. Kara loves mangos, in particular, although you’ll have to find a hot and humid locale to grow them.” 

Charlotte examines the box, but leaves it sealed. “Thank you, Lee. Nico will be so pleased.”

“I’m glad to hear it. How’s his health?” A cancer scare a six years back had nearly taken Nico’s life until the cylons eradicated the tumor and saved him. As repayment for Lee’s kindness in reuniting them, Charlotte gave Lee all of the medical files about their cure, one of many such technological gifts the cylons had bestowed upon them since the war. 

“It’s perfect. And your family? How is Kara? How is Wills liking college?” Her voice is genuinely curious.

Lee begins to talk, filling her in on his life with Kara now that both kids had left home. His descriptions of their life together on Tauron and Kara’s fascination with the remnants of Ha’la’tha leads to more questions from Charlotte about her old planet, how the people are faring, if the re-building is complete. He knows how much she wants to go back, but he can’t tell her it’s safe. 

“Not yet, Charlotte. Live your life and be happy.” Lee knows it will be a hundred years before humans allow cylons to come into their worlds again. And even that might be too soon.

With a serious expression, Lee finally turns the meeting to its purpose and slides a stack of papers across the table and the drive across the table. “The usual addendums and questions from the Fleet and scientists in the Twelve Worlds.” 

Charlotte nods and reaches into her pocket and gives Lee an oblong metallic canister. “Your answers from last year, Lee. Our scientists have solved many of your questions, but there are remaining mysteries. All is detailed on the drives. I hope they meet with your satisfaction.” 

Charlotte is anxious to please, but the technology transfer leaves a bitter taste in his mouth as it is hoarded and parsed by the Fleet when it could be used to promote peace, to show the humans the cylons’ willingness to pay a debt. He still challenges the hawkish thinking about cylons, but the Fleet and government, it seems, simply want reparations without credit. 

“The information is appreciated, Charlotte.” He doesn’t know what else to say; there are no options, so they both simply accept that their peoples remain separated by a gulf of rage and loss. There’s nothing he can do to change that.

With a sad smile, Charlotte nods, the lines around her mouth deepening. She feels it as he does and he reaches out and squeezes her hand.

With a check of the time, Lee stands, smoothing his uniform, and signifying that the meeting has come to an end. 

Charlotte stands, too, brushing a wayward hair out of her eyes. “It was so good to see you, Lee. I hope one day, our paths will meet outside this room.”

“Me, too, Charlotte. Maybe one day.” The two skirt the table and embrace warmly before Charlotte scoops up the items and leaves the room with a wave.

He watches the double doors open and close as he tucks the data canister into his breast pocket and lifts his bag back onto the table. One more thing to do and then he can go back to Tauron and leave this yearly vigil behind him. He is more ready to leave this year than before as another, more painful ending still aches in his heart.

From deep inside the satchel, he pulls out another photo, one of his father, gone only three months before, and he slides his hands along the burnished edges. It’s a photo from his dad’s younger days, in his duty blues talking to a young officer on the decks of Galactica. His pride is so clear that it makes Lee’s eyes sting with tears, still so fresh from his passing.

The photo of Kara and the kids goes back into the bag and he snaps it closed, pulling it off the table and tucking his father’s photo under his arm as he slides his chair back into place. The double doors slide open and Lee takes the long corridor to the lab, thinking of his father’s one and only return visit to Armistice, just two years after the war. That time, his father had taken Lee’s place, agreeing after much arguing to meet with Saul Tigh. His father had returned with a broken rib and a few new bruises, but his easier smile told Lee all he needed to know.

Now, stepping into the familiar white room of the lab, he thinks of the span of his father’s life, his work and his passions, the deep sadness in his later years, the bright spots of joy that his grandchildren brought him. 

With a deep reverence, Lee raises the photo to hang it on the wall of heroes, placing it next to Admiral Nagala’s stern-faced portrait and stepping back, eyes wet with tears as he appraises the brave soldiers who devoted their lives to the Fleet. Reaching out, he touches his father’s face one more time and smiles sadly. _Find peace, Dad._

With a sniff, he steps back and salutes, giving these brave men and women their due. 

_It was worth it._


End file.
